


The Science of Staying Gray

by the_obsidian_ronin



Series: Siths and Science [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Reader Insert, hell hath no fury, kylo's just a punk-ass bitch but i love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 95,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6532201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_obsidian_ronin/pseuds/the_obsidian_ronin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the months that followed the destruction of Starkiller Base, you’ve been searching for Kylo. Your search, fruitless on your own, drives you to the last place you’d want to be to remain Gray--the doorstep of the Resistance.<br/>Resistance leader General Leia Organa and her most trusted advisor, Captain Solus, have sensed your searches through the Force, as has every Force-sensitive Sith, Jedi, and Gray in the galaxy. They offer you peace and welcome you with open arms, but you know something’s up--Leia’s desire for her son challenges yours, and Solus’s questionable motives and unknown alliance threaten to jeopardize your safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aisling_in_outer_space](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisling_in_outer_space/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Starkiller Science](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5701039) by [aisling_in_outer_space](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisling_in_outer_space/pseuds/aisling_in_outer_space). 



_ You were alone.  _

In a technical sense, you weren’t  _ actually _ alone. Jessika’s friend Samson had agreed to take you in, thank the Force, but the radio silence from Kylo’s end of the Force bond the two of you shared was deafening. 

Six months you’ve been alone. Alone with your thoughts, alone with only your emotions. It was a foreign concept to you still, still trying to get over that last searing pain that still lingered fresh in your memory. The left hip, the right eye. You could only hope that Kylo hasn’t been in a coma this entire time. 

No word from anyone was agonizing. If you weren’t in town, taking lessons on fighting -- not like Kylo is there to protect you, and let’s be honest, you  _ were _ his lover -- you were in the rear garden at Samson’s house twenty miles outside of town meditating. Strong of will, strong of mind, and strong in the Force were all things you were -- your body was getting stronger now, too. 

Your meditations often brought along furry visitors, walking alongside you and nuzzling you. This time was no different, with the squirrels and neighborhood dogs all curled around you in a protective circle. You’d come to name all the dogs, cats, and even the squirrels that came to you, and they all responded to their names. At least with them, you weren’t alone. 

“I know you’re pissed,” Samson told you a summery day some six weeks after you’d arrived at his house. “But six weeks? By now you would know.” 

It took a moment for you to return to yourself, aware of Samson’s query. A few centering breaths, and then, “I know he’s not dead, Samson.” You had a love for this gentle, kind man. He was vegetarian, gentle, and hospitable. Your anger at yourself, at Kylo, at the entire First Order and the Resistance had driven you to bitter terms. A fire burned within you, and that fire was going to get Kylo back. 

You became aware of the sun burning into your bare shoulders, which had been burned red by now. Your skin had since tanned from its pale complexion due to your meditation sessions outside, but your meditation position had left strange tan lines all over your body. 

“Who are you waiting for, love?” Samson asked, his eyes kind and his body language that of a loving father’s. With a sigh, he brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Wouldn’t he have come back by now?” 

“He’s not dead,” you muttered, as if trying to convince yourself, “and it isn’t that simple.” You arose from your spot in the grass, your body screaming in agony at not having moved in hours, maybe days. You bit back any show of pain, and took a breath. In the past weeks, you’d become more centered, more determined. You had felt Luke and Rey, Leia and, frighteningly, Snoke. You felt everyone except the people you were looking for. 

You pushed past Samson, entering the kitchen from the vegetable garden. The kitchen itself was open to the elements--there wasn’t much in the way of storms here, and Samson was very welcoming to seemingly anything who came into his dwelling, though no animals seemed to cross the threshold into the actual house. Before you’d signed your life away, before you fell in love with Kylo, you might have been wanting of this type of life. Maybe after Kylo returns, after you find him, you could have this kind of life. But these animals who had become your companions were not what you wanted. 

You wanted Kylo. 

It was obvious that you knew you didn’t belong as your hand expertly selected veggies from the stacks on the counters, washing dirt and grime from them, and drew a knife to slice them up. Samson watched you, having only turned around to watch you. 

“Jessika did not tell me you were so angry,” Samson muttered, but you couldn’t tell if he had said it aloud or actually said it. The Force had suddenly grown within you, and nothing seemed off limits. It really did permeate everything, consume everything. It was powerful, unlimited, and you understood the lure of the Force that had Kylo so enraptured.  

“Jessika doesn’t know who I’m in love with,” you remarked bitterly, and Samson’s shock told you he hadn’t said his comment aloud--if he had, it wasn’t meant to be heard. The  _ tap _ of the knife on the cutting board was the only sound in the silence that followed, your hands expertly dissecting the item as if it were a cadaver back in your university. 

Was that really only a year ago when you’d signed yourself to the First Order? 

You tossed the peppers into a hot pan on the stove beside you and took the hot water off, making tea. The hot mug burned your hands as you held it, and you recalled a time you’d pulled a hot mug of tea from Kylo’s grasp for doing the same exact thing. You set the mug down to allow it to cool; hurting yourself didn’t bring him to you. 

It had rained that night, you recalled, as you sped down the dirt road on Samson’s speeder about four months later. You thought about that day a lot, you realized. 

As the town approached you, you slowed your speeder down, parking it in front of the place where your classes had become just eight-hour long sessions where you took your anger at yourself out. Samson was right--maybe he was dead. 

No. You refused to consider such things. You would know if Kylo was dead. He wasn’t. 

As you got off your speeder, gathering your things, you let the sounds of the town welcome you. Here, the people were kind, welcoming, unknowingly welcoming the lover of the person they hated most. Someone called your name, and you turned, your staff hanging from your shoulder, to see a small child running towards you, followed by the face of your instructor. 

“Damien,” you smiled, hugging the man as his daughter buried her face in your leg. 

“I can’t believe how big she is,” he muttered, nodding to his daughter as you stooped to pick her up. 

You resisted your inner scientist, telling you to go off on a tangent about growth patterns in small children and therefore their partitions in developmental psychology, but you resisted. Instead you smiled, the girl’s arms around your neck and her black hair so much like her father’s billowing in the gentle breeze. Damien’s warm smile caught your gaze and you smiled at the ground, biting back tears; it reminded you too much of Kylo’s smile. 

“So did you ever hear from that boyfriend of yours?” Damien asked you as you two headed into the training studio together. 

You shook your head. “No. But I know he’s out there. It’s like he doesn’t  _ want _ to be found. But wherever he is, he’s hurt, and I have to find him.” 

“Still not giving up on that dream?” 

“I didn’t give up on my dream to help people with science,” you shrugged, shifting his daughter to your other hip. “I’m not giving up on my dream to find Ben.” 

_ Ben. _

He would probably throw a fit for you using that name. For now, he would have to deal with it. 

Damien snorted and took his daughter from your grasp and picked up his staff. “Fine then. Wherever you’re going, you’re going to have to be combat-ready. You’re close to that because of your sheer determination bordering on stupidity to try and best me at my own game. So let’s go, shall we?” 

You dumped your bags on the floor and picked up your staff, the cool wood in your hands balancing perfectly as Damien’s daughter slunk to the corner to watch and cheer on her father. 

A whirling black blur, and you blocked it with ease, Damien’s staff inches from your face. The shock sent you into the air, a twirling kick to his face blocked by his staff and sent you tumbling to the floor. Checkmate. 

You were helped up off the floor, and you rolled out your shoulder before resecuring the braided bun your hair was in and readying yourself. The wood was in your grip again, and you two went at it. 

Your frustration at yourself was often taken out on Damien in this matter, and though this wasn’t really fair to him, it fueled your fire to get better, to help Kylo get out of whatever situation he was in and drag his ass out of the dark--by the hair, kicking and screaming, if you had to. He was  _ not _ going to lose this battle. 

And, in that determination, you twirled your staff beside you and took a determined stance. You were  _ not _ going to lose this fight, not a chance in hell. 

That determination set into your veins, coursing through you as if it were your lifeblood--wherever you had to go, you had to know how to defend yourself. Kylo couldn’t do it for you. 

That night you came back to the house, Samson’s dark eyes watching you limp off your speeder carrying items he’d needed from the market. He came out to help you, taking the heaviest of the load from your arms and supported your weight on his other hip. “You have to stop running yourself into the ground.” 

“Not until I can go get him,” you muttered, teeth grit in pain. 

“Ben’s not coming back, love,” Samson sighed, helping you through the door and into the kitchen. 

His statement offended you. How  _ dare _ this man, only a few years your senior, think that he can control  _ your  _ life and how you thought of Kylo? 

You fumed silently as Samson set a steaming cup of tea in front of you. It was a healing tea, the same one he made for you every time you came back battered and bruised from your sessions with Damien. You sipped at the hot tea, and relaxed a little as the effects started to wash over you. 

“Listen,” Samson said, sitting across from you and taking your free hand in his large, muscular hands. “Whatever your boyfriend did, whoever he was, it doesn’t matter now. If he really was First Order, like you were, and he is still alive, he’s either being held captive somewhere or laying low, and probably never going to come for you. You have to know that, deep down, I know you do.” 

You shook your head. “He’s.... That’s not the two options, Samson.” 

His face relaxed into a smile, that fatherly one he always gave you whenever he wanted something. You braced for it, and then he said, “Who is he, anyway? Really?” 

You took a moment to answer. “Ben Solo,” you whispered out. 

It was like the entire world went silent when Samson didn’t reply. Radio silence from his thoughts, radio silence from the world around you. Or maybe it was just how you perceived the moment -- either way, it didn’t go according to plan. 

“Your boyfriend is  _ Kylo Ren? _ ” Samson gaped, and you slowly nodded. He sat back in his chair, smirking, arms crossed, shaking his head. “Damn. I knew you were something else, but that’s really....  _ Holy shit,  _ kid. I would congratulate you if he wasn’t a homicidal maniac.” 

“He really isn’t,” you muttered, recalling the two encounters you’d had personally with his rage: the first week on Starkiller, when he’d accidentally given you seven stitches, and the one time he’d screamed at you, leaving you a scared ball on the floor with all the images through the Force bond that he wasn’t able to control. Neither were either of your faults: Kylo was unable to control it at the time and you didn’t know any better. Now you did. 

“Did he ever hurt you?” Samson suddenly asked. “I’ll cut off his balls if he did.” 

You laughed, the soft sound echoing through the otherwise silent house. “No, Samson, he didn’t. Not intentionally, I mean.” 

“How did he hurt you?” 

You considered telling him the whole story, the story which you had already told with bits and pieces missing--and Kylo Ren being a major piece of those. “I had only been on Starkiller a week, maybe,” you began, making up your mind. “Someone was trashing machinery as I and my escort walked past. My escort pretty much ditched me -- for good reason, I came to find -- but I investigated, and I scared Kylo and ended up getting seven stitches and a pretty bad concussion. He did make up for it, though. He... he more than made up for it,” you amended, staring at the grain in the table as you awaited your companion’s judgement.  

Samson nodded. “Good, then I don’t have to hurt him.”  You laughed, a full-bellied laugh, as he met your gaze. “What?” He asked, looking defensive. It was not a good look for him, but the thought of Samson taking on Kylo -- who was a full four inches taller than him -- was comical if not completely and utterly  _ pitiful. _

“You’d get your ass kicked,” you chuckled, wiping tears from your eyes as you caught your breath. 

He scoffed. “Would  _ not! _ ” he cried out, his voice rising a few pitches as he grew more and more defensive about his predicament. 

“Would too,” you laughed, and playfully kicked him under the table. “ _ I  _ could take you if I really wanted, Sam.” 

He rolled his eyes, the taller man lifting you like you weighed nothing and you simply reached down to grab your steaming tea as he carried you to your quarters, you still giggling uncontrollably. One of the side effects of the tea just so happened to be drug-enduced highs--and this is how you presented high. It was a type of hell elaborately designed to make you feel like you were in heaven. 

Samson’s curly, dark hair was loose from its usually tight, immaculate ponytail, a beaming smile cut across his dark face. His hair tickled your arm, which was draped over his shoulders, helping you keep your balance. He kicked open the door to your quarters, setting you on your bed and taking the tea from you to put on your nightstand. 

“It is late,” he smiled, “and you need to rest. I’ll see you in the morning, love.” 

He left you to your own devices, closing the door behind him. You looked between the covers of your bed and the door of the refresher, and, shrugging, you changed into your nightclothes and clambered into bed, snoring almost as soon as your head hit the pillow, your half-drank tea still steaming beside your bed, the steam rising up and mingling with the air above your bed in a poetic beauty in the shadowed corners of your room. 

\-------------------------

_ When you woke up, your head  _ throbbed. 

It wasn’t a simple little headache, either. This left you over the toilet of your refresher, the empty contents of your stomach finding its way into the bowl below you. Your heaving stomach looked for more to expel from your body, but nothing else came. It lurched and snarled as if it were expelling some final toxin from your body before it finally stopped.  

Samson was sitting next to you, gently rubbing your back as he held your hair out of the way, dabbing at your forehead which beaded with sweat as you gasped for breath. You felt like hell. Samson didn’t say anything to you--your head couldn’t really take the sound of anything currently, and he respected that boundary. 

Once you were done, Samson wiped your face while gently cradling your neck, supporting your head, before carrying you back to bed. He smiled at you, kissed your head, and replaced the tea mug with a glass of water before leaving the room with gentle, soft words of reassurance. It was a calming touch.

A soft smile ghosted your lips, and you drifted into a sleepless, restless state of oblivion where there seemed to be no return from. Ghosts of your past came to visit, and then one not-so-familiar. It was a ghost of a man, with sandy hair and dark eyes that had years of demons. A scar fell across his right eye, and you felt like you should recognize this man. Where did you know him from? 

_ Are you listening? _

The ghost’s lips didn’t move, but you heard him anyway. You hummed a response, flinching at the sound of your own voice reverberating in your skull. 

_ Good. Do you know who I am? _

You made no response, which told him everything he needed to know. His expression changed from that of hope to that of disappointment -- though it wasn’t directed at you. 

_ I see. Ben didn’t tell you about me.  _ The ghost huffed, tossing his long hair out of his eyes.  _ I am Anakin Skywalker.  _

Shock radiated from you. A Force ghost.  _ Speaking to you. _ Not only did you not think Force ghosts were real, but here’s Anakin fucking Skywalker, speaking to you.  _ Kylo’s grandfather, speaking to you. _

Anakin smiled, but it was something like Han’s smile -- or the smile you saw in projections in records and warrants. Despite no relation between the two, you couldn’t help but to compare.  _ I need you to do me a favor, _ he muttered to you. 

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to demand where he was while Kylo fell to the dark, where he was when Kylo fought Rey -- you wanted  _ answers, _ not favors. Instead, you nodded, too weak for much else. 

_ I need you to save Ben.  _

You groaned in frustration, shoving your face into your pillow.  _ Tell me.... where he is, _ you managed, your head throbbing with the effort.  _ I can’t find him. I’m not strong enough.  _

_ No, you are, _ he smiled, and felt the ghost of a touch on the back of your neck and then across your forehead, brushing your hair off of it.  _ You remind me so much of Ahsoka. Brave, determined, strong -- stronger than you will ever know. Truth is, I can’t find him. He stopped calling to me a long time ago, I’m assuming when he met you. You are his light. Find him and bring him home. My daughter will help you, as will her ally. Farewell, _ he called to you, and then vanished in a whirlwind of sounds and songs. 

With his disappearance, you felt your migraine fade. A few hours after your encounter, you felt well enough to sit up, and you did so slowly, not entirely sure what to expect. Your headache, mostly gone, was welcomed by a rush of blood to your head, causing your vision to go black for a moment. Once the spots faded, you reached for the glass of water, your hand weakly grasping the cup as you brought it to your lips, drinking it down in one go. After a few more moments of resting you found yourself well enough to stand, and you pulled your blanket with you, heading out into the kitchen and squinting at the change in light, almost literally hissing in response.

Samson was talking to Jessika over the comm, Samson quietly telling Jessika that you were not well enough to talk, but his gentle protesting was cut short by, “I, uh, she just kind of walked out here.” To you, he asked: “Did I wake you up?” 

You shook your head, still fighting a queasy stomach. “Anakin Skywalker did. Long story,” you added when his confused look met your gaze. 

Jessika’s voice hummed through the comm. “You up for an offer?” 

Your mind flicked back to the last time you took an offer, and then you sighed. “Sure, what the hell, why not.” You made yourself comfortable at the table, and Samson made you a cup of tea -- regular black tea, with a little honey and milk in it. As Samson set the tea down in front of you, you listened to Jessika’s proposition. 

“You don’t have to,” she added at the end. “It’s just, the General has taken an interest in you. A profound interest in you, I might add. It’s like you’re her kid or something.” 

_ Well, I fucked her kid, _ you muttered to yourself, and then sighed. 

Leia Organa has requested your presence. 

Not only requested, but damn near  _ demanded _ your presence. 

You thumbed at a scab on the back of your hand, thinking, before you replied. “When do I leave?” You asked her, and the smile on Samson’s face was that of pride that a father would give you. 

You could hear Jessika’s smile. “Why, I can be there tomorrow."  



	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessika’s proposition sat well with you, better than the situation at hand. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the situation, but with her came Poe, your old friend, and his boyfriend, Finn. Your searches for your friends holding empty, you begin to lose hope--but Leia Organa has not.

_ Samson had already agreed to  _ take you back to Eriadu to meet back up with Jessika. It was like a homecoming of sorts, not entirely welcoming and not entirely unwelcome either. As you set foot on the soil of the trading place, you felt like this was the last time you would be.... well,  _ you, _ as you’d been for the last six months. 

The time was skewed to you, in a way. It seemed like the time since the destruction of Starkiller had been years, not months--you’d changed so much, become so much darker, but you still clung to the light and the hope that you could find Kylo and bring him home, find everyone and let them be normal for once. Have a normal life, get married, have kids, maybe. Enough of the galactic conquest, enough of the war. Just....  _ enough. _

You bounced up and down in your spot, your toes never leaving the ground but your heels slamming down and sending shockwaves through your body. The hustle and bustle of Eridau was mostly the same; the same constant white noise of the ships coming and going, the tan buildings sheltering transactions from the sweltering sun and heat radiating from the duracrete tarmac were still the same, as was the chemical-y smell of the fumes of burning fuel. 

Your face was veiled, mainly to deal with the smog on Eridau. Samson had a small cloth pinned over his nose and mouth to help with filtering out a lot of the pollution and the sickly color of the air, despite the burning sun that had decided to show its face on the ho-dunk planet. 

The same blend of languages, mainly Basic being spoken. Some legal, mostly illegal transactions went on around you; you avoided the eye contact of those galactic gangsters, though some did eye you like a piece of meat to be had. Their Force signatures reeked of vile things, and you did the best you could to block it out. Snippets of thought in a language you didn’t understand still slipped through your barriers, though, and you didn’t like the tone of them. 

Samson eyed you out of the corner of his eye and tightened his grip on your arm as Jessika approached, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. “Been a while,” she smiled, hugging you. You froze, not entirely sure what to do with this sudden expression of familiarity, but hugged her back lightly, barely wanting to touch her, as if you could be toxic to her good nature. But behind her was a parade of people you both recognized and didn’t. 

“Poe,” you breathed, relieved to see your old friend alive. When Jessika let go of you, you rushed to Poe’s side, latching to him in relief, your arms flung around his shoulders and his curly hair brushing your cheek. “I didn’t know if you made it back alive or not. Thank the Force you’re alright.” 

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, sealing you in a bear hug the likes of which only he could give, his curly dark hair tickling your skin. “That punk-ass bitch didn’t mess me up too bad, don’t worry.” You smiled and laughed, but it was hollow. “And this is Finn,” he said, gesturing to the dark-skinned man behind him. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

You stuck your hand out to Finn, who firmly grasped it and shook your hand only once. He was familiar, but you couldn’t place him. You gave him your name, and then said, “I have a feeling I should know you.” 

“That’s because you do,” he muttered. “I was there. The medbay, with you and Stratoveer and Ren.” 

Poe looked between the two of you, and then said, “Wait, what? You two know each other?” 

Your mind raced.  _ Finn _ . You traced his voice back to that same medbay, the one he described, and you slowly backed away. Though he wore Poe’s flight jacket, you had an idea of whom he was. “I’m sorry for what Kylo did to you,” you muttered, looking away. “He-- he didn’t--”

“You’re on a first name basis with the biggest pain in my -- and the Resistance’s -- ass?” Poe snapped, and you flinched. Samson grimaced, and you found Jessika’s questioning gaze to be as pathetic as you felt. You thought she’d have figured it out, considering you’d demanded a presence with Leia. 

“A  _ bit _ more than a first name basis,” you muttered, slowly backing away as if Finn was suddenly a threat to you, as if they all were a threat. Samson’s hand gripped your hand, reassuring you that you weren’t alone. His thoughts were of gentle, friendly encouragement, but you knew how screwed you were; so did he, even if he didn’t want to say it. 

“I’ll about guarantee you that Ren is the reason Leia wants her,” Finn growled, his eyes narrowed at you; distrusting, malevolent in a way. “They were lovers. It was no secret on base--and what they were doing while I was trying to bust you out, Poe, I’ll never know. I’m grateful, though. Saved us a lot of trouble.” 

You knew who Finn was now.  _ FN-2187 _ . You remembered Phasma being upset that he’d been defective, that he would have been so promising had he been  _ normal-- _ a drink in her hand, she’d drank her disappointment and anger at herself away, and she and Amena had left together, doing stars know what in their room. You remembered seeing bites and marks along Amena’s collarbone the next day, though she’d tried to cover them. 

Suddenly you flipped gears, the wheels turning.  _ Phasma. _ You hadn’t heard from her in months. “Where is she?” You growled, stalking towards Finn. “Where’s Phasma? Where’s Hux?  _ Where are my friends? _ ” 

“Dead, I hope,” Poe sniffed, and you glared at him--but you understood his anger. However, that didn’t stop your rage. 

“How dare you,” you muttered. “How dare you assume that they’re bloody horrible people, that they  _ wanted _ to destroy those planets,” you went on, and Samson held you back, his large hands clamped around your elbows, as if  _ that _ could stop you from hurting them. All it took was a flick of thought, conscious or subconscious, and they could be halfway across the tarmac, back towards their ship in the sweltering heat. 

Finn looked as shocked at your surprising outlash as everyone else was. This wasn’t you, not the you he knew on Starkiller Base. You’d become so much like Kylo, prone to these episodes of rage. Samson had been privy to these episodes before, where the ultimate guilt of not saving Kylo and Hux and Phasma and everyone else broke you into a thousand little shards of broken stars and galaxies. 

Jessika stepped in front of you, wiping the tears from your eyes and smoothing back your hair. “You’re probably the only person in the galaxy that knows that,” she muttered, her words soft and gentle. “And from where we stand, your boyfriend is better off wherever he is, where we can’t find him. Leia really only wants her son back, but I don’t think that he exists anymore.” 

_ According to Kylo, he doesn’t,  _ you thought to yourself, but didn’t reply.

“Where is Phasma?” You demanded, looking past her and at Finn. “You were there, right? With the blue saber? Anakin’s saber?” The desperation, the hopelessness, was obvious in your voice. 

“It’s Rey’s, now,” he muttered. “But yes. I don’t know if she made it off Starkiller alive or not, and I don’t care.” 

_ He’s lying.  _

You, of course, knew that Phasma made it off Starkiller--you, her, Amena, and Talia had all made it off together, and while you went for a place to lay low, the other three women had gone back to the crumbling ruins of the First Order. The four of you made a deal to keep in touch once a fortnight, but the comms had been silent the past few months. 

“I thought you were the gentlest person,” you said to him, your voice soft and broken. His face registered shock before it returned to the passive state it was before. “Is this what choosing a side does to you? Shatters your very being and reconstructs you broken, unclean?” 

“What side did you pick?” Poe asks, his voice so, so, so gentle but so guarded, and you shook yourself free of Samson’s embrace, the man keeping a wary eye on you so you didn’t hurt anyone. 

“I didn’t pick a side. I picked a person. A group of people. And I will do everything in my power to drag them back to the light,” you growled, taking your stuff from Samson and pushing past the group. 

As you waited in the distance, you fumed.  _ How dare they. _ They knew nothing of the people you loved, your friends, the people who’d become your family. You tapped your fingers on the wood of your staff, your knuckles of the other hand turning white. 

Then again, neither did your friends. 

They didn’t know of the families and lives in that system. You never agreed with that decision, hell no-- but you stood by them because they were your friends. You picked them over the light and the dark, the good and the evil. You picked  _ love. _ Your grip lessened as you took a deep breath; anger would not help your situation, at all. 

Samson came over to say goodbye. His hugs had always calmed you, and you received one there. The tarmac beneath your feet radiated heat, almost burning through your shoes, and you sighed, not wanting to let go. “I don’t know if I’ll be safe,” you admitted to him, eyes wide and fearful. 

“That’s fine, kid,” he murmured, his breath hot on your forehead before he kissed your head, smoothing back your hair. “Leia will be with you. She’s a good woman. I’ve heard good things about her.” 

You nodded, and tried to find solace in his words; however, you found nothing but empty promises. The man meant well, but you didn’t feel he knew what kind of situation you were walking into. 

The Force bond was still silent. 

You could feel something rousing you, something amping up. You didn’t know if it was just your anxiety over the entire situation, heading for the New Republic, meeting Leia Organa who was the estranged mother of your boyfriend, et cetera, or if it was something else, something more major than that. 

You weren’t entirely sure, but as Samson let Jessika take you by your free hand and lead you into their Republic ship, you thought you saw him wipe away a tear before he turned away and walked back towards his own ship. 

The loading dock was brought up, and you were zipped into hyperspace in a matter of minutes. 

Jessika and Poe tried talking to you, trying to get answers -- why you and Kylo were a thing, that angle -- but you weren’t in the mood to talk. Your hands were on your sais, whipping them back and forth from your spot in a corner. The metal slammed against the heels of your palms, bruising them, but not intentionally--speed and power were your only goals.

You did this for hours, switching the blade in and out in both hands. Jessika eyed you, worried-- this was not the characteristic behavior of a woman she’d been very close with in undergrad. Poe was up in the pilot’s seat, Finn watching the door and you, as if he were fearful you were going to harm them. 

One thing was for sure: you were alienated.

_ That’s what Kylo can do to people.  _ Jessika paused.  _ No. That’s what love, unconditional love, can do to people. _

She was unaware that you’d heard her thoughts, and Poe kept his mind under lock and key, though you didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was thinking about. If any of you hadn’t changed, it was Poe who changed the least. He was more haunted, but other than that, he was no different than the last time you’d seen him, when he’d boarded that ship to join the Republic like his parents, to be a pilot. 

_ Best damned pilot indeed, _ you smiled, but it didn’t really reach your face. 

When you landed at the base of the Resistance, you didn’t want to get off the ship. It felt wrong, in a way, to take your black-clad body off the ship and onto the soil of something that belonged to the light, as if you belonged to the dark even though you were entirely something gray.  

Poe and Finn had already gotten off, the small crowd growing to see the girl that Leia had demanded to see. You stood in the shadow, almost shaking with fear. Jessika smiled at you, squeezed your hand with hers, and departed from the ship. 

_ Go.  _

This voice wasn’t yours. Not Kylo’s, either, but  _ Anakin’s.  _

_ Go to my daughter. Tell her I sent you. This has to end. _

Jessika waited for you at the end of the loading dock, her eyes confused as to why you didn’t follow. You took a deep breath, watching the people you’d flown with gather and wonder why you hadn’t descended yet. 

_ This has to end, _ you agreed, and you descended down the loading dock to join the people you’d traveled with. 

You felt so out of place as you were lead throughout the base to a bunker not unlike the one you left on Starkiller. Jessika gestured to the door, and you stepped in the room, dropping your stuff on the kitchen table and exploring. 

There was a kitchen to the left when you walked in, and the living space was just past that. The bedroom and refresher was to the right, along with a little office-slash-library area. You didn’t really take stock, but you established a mental map of the place relatively quickly. You set your staff against the wall in the living room and took your bags to the bedroom, dumping them there to deal with later. 

“Is it alright? I can have you moved if you like--” 

“Jessika.” You muttered, not looking at her. “It’s fine. I don’t need more than this. Thank you, for everything.” 

“I think you do need more than this,” Jessika smiled, and a soft  _ meow  _ caught your attention. 

You looked towards Jessika, who held your good friend Pickles in her arms. The cat gave a happy mewl upon spotting you and leapt from Jessika to the floor to rub up against your legs, and with a broken, happy sob, you scooped the cat up and hugged him close to your chest. “I missed you,” you murmured, and he purred in response, booping your nose with his. 

Jessika smiled and left the bunker, the door closing behind her with a soft  _ click.  _ Pickles purred happily even as you set him down, happy to see his owner okay. 

You started to put things away, finding some clothes already in the closet and dresser. They were nicer clothes -- clearly Leia had thought that being essentially homeless for a half a year was going to wear down on your presentable clothes. She wasn’t wrong, either. Some of them were black, you were surprised to see. And when you brought them out to try on, you saw the note pinned to one of the shirts. 

_ I know you don’t know me. I know you probably don’t trust me, either, because of everything you’ve probably been told by Ben and the First Order. But I also know that you love him, and that you’re here to save him. You wouldn’t have come if you hadn’t.  _

_ These are some of his clothes. I doubt they’d make you feel better but I know they’ll fit you -- he was a scrawny teen.  _

_ Thank you.  _

_ \--Leia.  _

The note dropped to your feet, but you clung to the shirt like it was your last lifeline. You buried your face into it, your fingers curled around the fabric like it was the closest thing you had to his hair. Your love hadn’t diminished; no, your love had only grown stronger, more determined than ever before. Gathering yourself, you found the materials to reply back to the general and you scrawled a note back: 

_ Thank you for the clothes, General.  _

_ Anakin told me to tell you that he sent me.  _

_ I don’t know what that means, and I don’t know how to interpret that, but it’s what he said.  _

_ May the Force be with you.  _

_ \--x _

You were able to find someone relatively quickly who could deliver the message to Leia, then returned to your room. Pickles purred happily at your return, and you got in the refresher, washing dirt and grime from your body, and then changed into one of Kylo’s shirts and a pair of loose trousers. 

Your wet hair hung in wavy strands around your face as you made food, the food so much better than on Starkiller and it almost rivaled Samson’s garden. Pickles was draped across the counter, watching you work happily as he purred, nearly drifting asleep. 

But the scent of Kylo on the shirt and remembering how much he actually loved to cook -- you remembered it from the Force bond at some point -- was a little too much to bear. You pulled your stir fry off the heat and just sunk down the stove, sobbing into your hands.  _ Stars, _ you missed him. Why the hell did he leave? Why was there no contact? Not just from Kylo, but from everyone? 

You had kept your comm, just in case it rang.  _ Samson would probably comm you later, just to make sure you got back alright-- _

_ Kylo had to be okay, the silence wasn’t like that of death-- _

_ The Stormtrooper you couldn’t save-- _

_ Phasma, Talia, Amena; what if you had been lied to, what if they were being tortured--  _

_ Hux, what if Snoke had Kylo torturing him--  _

Too many variables ran through your head at once. You were crying, you could feel your eyes burning and the hot tears on your cheeks, but you were scared and angry and so many other things you couldn’t figure out. Your body shook, and you screamed in frustration, the table moving three feet with the sheer force of your outlash. 

Pickles meowed in front of you, and you looked up. He’d dropped a sock at your feet, looking concerned. Behind him, the kitchen was trashed. Apparently, using the Force in your emotional instability, you’d thrown some things from the counters. A few pans lay scattered about the floor, and your food was plastered to the floor ten feet from you. Some metal sheets had been warped to form works of art, and others had just been shredded to pieces. 

“I don’t know where he is, Pickles,” you muttered, pulling your cat into your embrace. “I miss him.” 

Your cat meowed at you and licked your cheek, resting his head on your shoulder and falling asleep for a bit before you arose, carrying him with you to your bedroom. You set him on the pillow next to you, crawled under the covers, and fell asleep. 

And still, the Force Bond remained silent. 

It was the silence that haunted you, your mind, your dreams. Your own agony in your loneliness, reaching out,  _ begging _ Kylo to come home, begging him to reach out and let you know he was alright, that he was going to come back. 

What you didn’t know is that he heard every single word. 

It haunted him, too. It left him an angered wreck, lashing out at anyone who bothered checking on him. The past six months had been hell on him. He begged you to give up, to stop searching for him, to move on-- he wasn’t good enough for you, anyway. He was too broken, too angry, too dangerous. Hux tormented him about it; he wasn’t strong, wasn’t brave, wasn’t strong enough in the Force to forget you. But in the end, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be like his grandfather any longer. 

You were the source of Snoke’s torments, too. He used you to destroy Kylo, over and over and over, breaking him again and again as if there were things left to break. He would always remember the way your fingers curled around his, and how the gray knit blanket he still had that had once smelled of you had draped across your body in the night. 

But there was one thought he had, the same as you: 

_ I love you. _

No matter how many times Snoke tried to shake that from him, to beat that out of him, he never wanted to leave the last person who truly loved him:   _ you. _ You were his light, his love, his heart. You were his everything. 

_ Come home. I love you. I miss you. _

_ I miss you too, and I love you too.  _

But the Force bond had to remain silent. 

And that was what shattered him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait on this one, guys. I always post first on Tumblr, and these updates can take place anywhere from an hour after to, in this case, almost three days after. You can find me at obsidian-shadows on Tumblr if you're looking for immediate, faster updates. Sid, out!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo’s training has proceeded, more or less to plan. He is changing, and even Supreme Leader Snoke and Hux have felt the shockwaves. Meanwhile, General Phasma is doing her best to keep what’s left of the First Order from crumbling, though she can tell the end is in sight.

_ Kylo was about as broken as  _ he was ever going to be. 

It shattered him every time you reached out with the Force. He longed for you, for your touch, for your kiss. But now? Now it was too dangerous, too risky. The Dark permeated everything about him, changed him. He was Kylo Ren. You were no longer part of his identity, for your own safety.  

He had to remind himself of that as he wandered the dark halls of Snoke’s palace, the throw he’d stolen from you all those months ago draped over his shoulders and hugged close around him. It was the last thing he had of you, but Snoke would  _ never _ know that. 

Hux found him on a balcony at dawn, staring out over the desolate land. “Snoke is going to ask you give up everything of hers.” 

“I have nothing more to give,” Kylo replied after a long while. Ren’s voice was clipped, short, but soft, hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in days. 

Hux sighed, blue-green eyes scanning the land and then settling on Kylo. “Ren, you’re acting like a child over this. You pine and pine and pine and yet you know you can never hold her in your arms again, unless it is in the afterlife.” 

“She is being trained,” Ren whispered, his eyes having not shifted from the rising sun. The warm light washed everything in brilliant, bold hues, and the wind wasn’t as biting. He was supposed to be growing closer to the Dark, and yet with every day he spent in the presence of his master he felt the pull to the light growing stronger. “I can feel it.”

He also knew that, as your training progressed in the Force, the Dark would continue to seduce you. He couldn’t protect you from it. He had set this chain of events on course, and it was all he could do to hold on to what little he actually had. 

Hux turned to Kylo, snapping, “Ren, look at me.” 

The taller man turned his head to his colleague, his dark eyes lost and broken. No anger laid in them anymore; only his fear for you and the future of what the two of you had been. 

“Let her go, Ren. Shut her out. Rip the Bond out entirely.” 

Kylo growled. “You know nothing of the Force Bond.” 

“I know what Snoke has told me,” Hux spat out, and huffed, taking a long draw on his cigarette. 

Kylo shook his head. “Bonds are broken only by death. I cannot shut it out entirely. I feel all of her emotions still, just as if she were beside me. I feel her passion, her drive, her determination. I made the mistake of falling in love.” He turned to his comrade, looking down his nose at Hux. “Not that you ever felt that way about Talia, that is.” 

Hux spluttered, face turning red. “What does that  _ doctor _ have to do with anything?” 

“She loves you, General. Perhaps you only used her for the insane sex, hmm?” Kylo asked, and then stepped away. “I, on the other hand, actually cared for my lover. Is it I who is really the monster here, Hux? It is not I that condoned, no,  _ reveled _ in the death of billions of innocent lives. Is it really me, then? Because I had the ability to look those I’ve killed in the eye before I took their life? I didn’t hide behind a podium and let a massive death ray handle my job. Who is the monster, Hux?” 

Kylo strode away before the ginger could answer, leaving the red-headed, black-cloaked pale man on the balcony for the stained glass windowed halls. 

_ Kylo Ren. _

_ Master. _ Kylo responded right away, looking out over the mountains. The lure to the Dark was intoxicating, but it made his stomach lurch at the same time. He was not sure whom he sided with anymore: you, or his master.

_ You are doubting yourself. _

_ Only in accordance with my own emotions, Master. I am facing all of them one at a time. Doubts make men stronger once they are turned to certainties.  _

_ You’ve grown more eloquent. Have you been reading again? _

_ I never stopped. _

Ren’s desire to be well-versed in everything possible ever since childhood has never faded from his personality. Books were his life, and then holorecords. 

Snoke’s mild curiosity radiated to Kylo, and then it was cut short by Snoke’s sharp  _ Get back to work _ before ripping his way out of Kylo’s mind.

He wondered if Snoke knew he was slipping. Slipping like his grandfather had, made the choices that Luke had. He was turning from bad to good like his father, like his grandfather. 

Kylo sighed, moving through the hallways again. His bare feet were frigid on the floor of the palace, his breath almost a cloud. His body told him that nothing was wrong. He knew better; this was another one of Snoke’s tests. Endurance. Breaking his body along with his mind. Breaking to allow it to heal and make it stronger. 

Images of you on the ground, bleeding out, forgotten, decaying, slammed into his head. 

The force of them left him crippled on the floor, on his hands and knees gasping for breath. His dark hair lay about his pale face in locks similar to ink on paper, the scar on his eye a soft jagged pink. 

Hux came up to him, shoving him over with his boot.  _ Pathetic, _ he heard Hux say. 

Or was it Snoke? 

_ Absolutely _ pathetic, _ that’s what you look like.  _ Hux yanked Kylo up by his hair, the taller man hissing in pain.  _ Completely, totally, utterly pathetic. Like a lost dog, mooning over his former master. She’s gone. Get over her.  _

Every instinct in Kylo’s body fought Hux, or this illusion, whichever this was. He felt the steel-toed boots of Hux’s break the skin on his ribs, and his mind told him there should be blood, but when Kylo looked, there was no blood. 

_ Here we go, _ Kylo snarled, bracing for the next days of torture. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

_ Phasma looked down at the table  _ in front of her, groaning. 

Mitaka was going off about some plan to strike back at the Republic, as if they had  _ any _ kind of firepower left to use in this God-forsaken war. 

“But if we--” 

“Enough.” 

Phasma’s voice cut bitterly through the air, and Mitaka paused. “General?” 

“I said enough. Get out.” 

Mitaka paused, eyes darting back and forth between you and the rest of the table. “General, I don’t think that--” 

Phasma rose from her seat, reflective chromium armor glinting in the iridescent light of the conference room, and glared at Mitaka through slitted eyes. “What is this? I lose the support of Ren and Hux because of some mission the Supreme Leader has them on, and I become the biggest joke of the First Order? I’m trying to  _ save _ this empire, not destroy it! What the hell do you think  _ attacking _ the Republic is going to do, Mitaka?” 

When the paling man didn’t answer, she nodded. “Go ahead, you can speak. It’s not like I’m Ren who will strangle the life from your lungs, or Hux who will throw you out of the nearest airlock. No. I’m  _ far, far  _ worse. So get the fuck out of my conference room and come back with a strategy that will allow for us to grow and defend, not attack and commit mass suicide.” 

Everyone stood and left, leaving Phasma in the conference room with her head in her hands and flat-out  _ shaking _ with frustration. 

A soft knock came at the door, but the former Captain made no move to open it. 

The door swung open, and in stepped Amena, her warm brown eyes searing questions into the back of her lover’s chromium armor. 

“Mitaka said you were here,” she softly spoke, sliding into the chair beside Phasma. 

“Mitaka needs to learn to keep his mouth shut,” Phasma hissed out, not looking at Amena. “How goes the research Talia is working on?” 

“Without Xavier, slow. We’re still looking for a replacement for her, and Talia hasn’t been able to get any comms through to her either.” 

Phasma sighed out her frustration, taking deep breaths. “Do you think she’s dead? That Ren completed his training-- which would have been killing her?” 

Amena shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know, love.” 

Phasma groaned, throwing a stress ball at the mirror and somehow shattering the mirror with the foam ball. Amena flinched, but made no other attempt to move. 

“This was so much easier when I had two others I could rely on,” Phasma muttered. “Hux, leading the entire army. Ren, the melee fighter and leader of the Knights. Me, with the infantry. Now it’s just me, leading all of it. The First Order is a waning crest of what it used to be, and I can’t save this.” 

Amena wrapped Phasma’s large hand in hers, pressing a gentle kiss to the pale fingers there. “We’ll figure it out, Phas. We always do.” 

“What if this all falls, Amena?” Phasma whispered, looking at her lover with large blue eyes. “What if it all fails and I’m left with the crumbled ruins of my identity?” 

“Then you and I will rebuild your identity. Together,” Amena spoke, her voice stronger than she felt. Seeing Phasma like this, so broken, so shattered, it broke her. 

Phasma’s lips were parted, eyes broken, eyebrows furrowed. Her iron grip had locked Amena’s hand in hers, gripping it like she was her only grounding thing. The outpouring of love from her eyes, of hope, of  _ life, _ made Amena smile, truly smile for the first time in a while. 

Phasma reached over to her, a gentle touch of trailing fingers against the nape of Amena’s neck. Her thumb traced the outline of her lips, Phasma studying every reaction from the doctor like she were an experiment. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Phasma breathed out, eyes searching her lover’s. 

Amena couldn’t respond, her breath caught in her throat and her heart racing. Phasma leaned towards her, other hand slipping around Amena’s waist, fingertips gripping with a gentle insist. Amena looked up into her partner’s eyes, so broken and  _ afraid _ of losing her, and pressed her forehead against hers. 

Phasma’s lips met Amena’s, a soft, gentle kiss with lingering ghosts, begging for so much but knowing the reception would be so little. “I have to go back to work. Thank you for coming, Amena. I’ll see you tonight.” 

Amena nodded, pressing a quick kiss to Phasma’s lips in return. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” the blonde smiled, picked up her helmet, and left the room, the door clicking softly behind her. 

Amena leaned back in the chair, screaming a little, slapped herself to get her shit together, and left the room. 

Later, in Talia’s lab, Amena was looking at data spreadsheets, Talia ranting almost drunkenly in the background. 

“Why hasn’t he commed? Don’t I mean anything to him?” Talia fanned her face, dabbing at her eyes to keep her tears from damaging her precious eyeliner. 

Amena sighed through her nose, doing her best to block out Talia in a need to focus. 

Talia took down one of the glass jars that held a brain, looking at it lovingly. Out of the corner of her eye, Amena could see it labeled  _ DA-4962. _ She thought bitterly of the disgusting Trooper that had sexually harassed her friend, and with a sort of sick enjoyment, seeing his headless body rolling into the morgue, pushed by Phasma.  _ ‘Misconduct,’ _ Phasma had murmured.

Amena didn’t need to read the report to know where his head was, and who had killed him. 

Talia set the glass jar back on the shelf with a small  _ tap _ , biting back more sobs. “Amena, I miss him,” she muttered, and Amena put down the report to hug her friend. 

“He’s not dead, not yet. Know that, alright?” Amena smiled, and Talia gave a watery smile back. 

“Do you think once he’s done babysitting Ren, he’ll come back?” 

Amena shook her head, shrugging. “Who knows? For Phasma’s sake, and yours, I hope he does. Speaking of people coming back, have you heard from Christina?” 

Talia shook her head. “Comms went dead about three months ago. I’ve reached out, but haven’t gotten through. I figured she’s been busy. Do you think Ren found her?” 

Amena groaned, gathering her jacket from its draped position around her chair. “I’ll finish reading that report later. I have to tell Phasma something.” 

“Where do you think she is, Amena?” 

Amena paused, tapping the code to allow the door to open in the pad. “If I know Christina,” she muttered, “she’ll do everything in her power to find Kylo. Where would she find the most people that want to find him?” 

Talia’s eyes went wide, fixing on Amena in horror. “The Republic.” 

Amena nodded. “Yeah, the Republic. Mainly Leia Organa.” 

Talia darted out the door before it could close again, following Amena’s brisk pace towards the location of Phasma’s next meeting. 

She attempted to enter the room, but the two Troopers in front refused her entrance. “General’s orders, no one in, no one out until she is done.” 

Amena took a deep breath, fixing both of them a stern glare. “I bring information the General would like to hear.” 

“We cannot disobey direct orders.”

Amena found the name of the Trooper speaking, eyes narrowed. “MA-1682. Wonderful. Listen to me, kid. I know sixteen different ways of killing you without leaving any forensic evidence, and I can think of dozens more that my  _ girlfriend _ would let me get away with if she discovers that you didn’t grant me entrance. This is relevant to the Republic, so  _ step. Aside. _ ” 

The two guards looked at each other, and then they moved aside, allowing Talia and Amena entrance. 

Phasma cut herself off from speaking at Amena and Talia’s appearance, eyes narrowed. “I told them not to let anyone in.” 

“Blame us for that. You’re going to want to hear what Amena has to say,” Talia said, her voice breathy and cornered. 

“General, these  _ doctors _ know nothing of the Republic’s movements throughout the galaxy; get them out of here!” Some leader hissed. Amena glared daggers at him, and then turned to Phasma, who motioned for her to speak. 

“I think I know where Doctor Christina Xavier is, and I think I know who she’s with.” Amena paled, looking down at the durasteel floor. 

“Go on, girl; out with it!” Another commander hissed, and Phasma glared at him. Silent revenge was sworn, and Amena smirked a little. 

“She is with the Republic.” Amena breathed. “And.... If my gut is right, and forgive me if you don’t believe in the legend, but I do. I believe....” She took a breath, steadying herself. “I believe she is in the presence of the Gray Jedi and Leia Organa, searching for our former leader Kylo Ren.” 

The entire room went silent, and Phasma pinched the bridge of her nose. “That isn’t unreasonable to assume.” 

“We still don’t know where the Republic is hiding, General! How does this help us find them?” 

“Commander Zhou, I can  _ assure _ you, if we can get ahold of the doctor, we can find them,” Phasma snapped out, and Amena stood there awkwardly, Talia surveying the room. 

She walked over to one of the younger recruits in the room, poking at their neck and investigating muscle movements. 

“Talia, what are you doing?” Phasma sighed out, and she didn’t reply to Phasma. Instead, she looked at the recruit, and then smiled. 

“Yes. You’ll do. Come with me.” Talia picked them up by their hand, and Phasma stopped her. 

“You’ll have a new brain to study in due time, Talia. Let the boy return to his seat; there’s not going to be any sacrifices to science today,” Phasma groaned out. “Amena, get her out of here before she takes someone without us realizing it. Thank you for your information.” 

Talia pouted, letting the shaken kid return to his seat, and Amena grabbed the redhead by the back of her lab coat, dragging her out of the room. 

Phasma leaned on the durasteel table, looking at the metal with a dark look. 

“General? What’s wrong?” 

Phasma looked up at the kid who sat directly across from her, and he paled. 

“If Christina is with them,” Phasma muttered, “we won’t need to wonder about where they are. They’ll come for us. She’ll lead them straight to us, like a lamb to the slaughter.” 

“Why would she do that? You’re her ally, correct?”

Phasma shrugged. “She was either turned, or her desperation to find Lord Ren is that intense. She may believe we know where he is, and therefore, she’d lead Organa and all of them straight for us.”

“Can she fight?” 

Phasma shook her head. “She was not skilled in fighting the last time I saw her, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t received training. She likely has.” 

Commander Zhou stood, straightening his First Order coat. Phasma was aware of his Sith alliance, and she prepared for a rant on the Force, but he simply looked at her, murmuring, “What are the chances she was found by Solus and Kazmarek?” 

“As certain as her new alliance with Leia Organa. The Gray Jedi in service to Organa will, most definitely, act upon the doctor’s strength in the Force and Kylo’s inability to fully train her so she can control it.” Phasma looked the commander in the eye, and he nodded, sitting back down. 

“What does that mean for the First Order?” Mitaka asked, and Phasma’s voice was broken, tongue-in-cheek. 

“With the return of the Gray, loss of Ren and Hux, destruction of Starkiller and a severe loss of Troopers in the process....” Phasma shook her head. “Almost certain destruction.” 

There was a collective sigh around the room. 

Phasma looked out over the twenty or so people in the conference room. “If I were you, I’d take stock of what you have. I’d leave. I’d take those I love and go into hiding, until we can get Ren back. I will stay, I will defend what we have left. I will likely die or be taken captive in the process of this hail mary. I can’t ask any of you to do the same.” 

“They’ll kill you, Phasma, in a heartbeat,” Zhou spoke gently. 

She shook her head. “Not if Christina truly believes I can help in her search.”

Zhou and the others nodded. “Then what is this, if you fail?” 

She sighed, scratching her head. “This is the destruction of the First Order.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was supposed to be chapter six. Which is why there's a lot of weird things that WILL be explained. It just kinda... fit better??   
> I have no idea.   
> I have a paper due on Sojourner Truth that I haven't started yet. It's due tonight.   
> Goodbye, everyone. I'm off to hell. Further updates will be done by ghost me.


	4. Chapter Four

_ You woke up a tired, sad  _ mess. Pickles was purring right beside your head, seemingly asleep still. You patted his head and then sat up, crossing your legs and cradling your head in your hands. The gray-and-white tom meowed in distaste at his source of heat being taken away and flopped along your back, refusing you any room. 

A few moments later, you swung your legs out of bed and went to the closet, picking out a pair of loose black trousers and a gray tank top to rest in for the day.

Pickles accompanied you as you cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, the remnants of your half-cooked stir-fry still on the floor. Your cat had probably eaten a lot of it, and the things he didn’t like -- which was most of the things in the stir fry -- were batted about the kitchen, leaving streaks of soy sauce on the floor. 

Pickles found his way onto the counter where he watched over you, acting as if he were your protector. “If you were gonna eat some of it, could you at least have eaten all of it so I didn’t have to throw this all out?” You asked him. 

He stared at you and flicked his tail in response. 

You sighed, your shoulders slumping, and you got back to work, scrubbing the grease stain from the floor. Your head throbbed from the episode the night before, the twisted and malformed pans still scattered about the kitchen for you to pick up once you finished scrubbing. The action wore your hands raw, reminding you that you were a woman of science, not a woman of cleaning via elbow grease. You got varying chemicals out of the cabinets and used what little you remembered from chemistry to get the stain out instead--which worked far, far better. 

You settled in with a cup of coffee, a book, and your cat when you got the stain up. You had been excited to read it: it was an adventure novel, the paper yellowed and crinkled, and you’d had your eye on it since you’d walked into the apartment. 

But when you opened up the front cover, it read  _ To: Ben. Love, Dad. _

You dropped the book like it was toxic, staring at it in shock. Of  _ course  _ it would be Kylo’s book. They were probably  _ all _ his, too. 

The hard-bound book lay in your lap, a world waiting to be explored, and you couldn’t get over the little note penciled in on the first page, before the title page. A few months ago, this little note would have only roused your curiosity, but you would have carried on reading. Hell, that’s exactly what you did. Now the same situation, only later in the timeline of events, and you could barely will yourself to move. It angered you, and it was a ridiculous little thing.  _ It’s just a book.  _ But it was the shirt, the book, and the still constant radio silence that buzzed in the back of your mind that all added up to one crazy mental state. You had to get your mind off of it. 

You set the book on your nightstand, swung your legs out of your bed, and grabbed your sais, sitting in a corner and flipping them in and out of your hands just to calm down. 

How strange your life had become. 

Half a year ago, you would have never thought that you would use traditional weapons to calm yourself down from an emotional episode, and you’d definitely never think that Kylo would refuse to respond to you. Stars, how complex your life had become. 

You set your sais down, your stomach roaring in hunger, and you decided it would be a good time to go get some food -- you had a feeling things were about to heat up. 

You slipped on a pair of boots and a jacket, heading out of the bunker while tying your hair back up in a messy, loose bun. 

With the help of a woman by the name of Ahsoka, you were able to find your way to the cafeteria, where all chatter stopped the second you stepped in the room. 

A few people rose to leave, but you moved on, getting your food and sitting at a table by yourself. 

It was tormenting, seeing everyone glance back at you like you were their enemy. You weren’t there for them, you weren’t there for the First Order. You were there for you, for Leia. That was it. 

_ If only it was that simple, _ you mused, pushing your rice around on your tray. The gossip had made your stomach turn. Finn was, no doubt, at the heart of it. Finally, Jessika sat across from you, though she had no food with her. 

You looked at her, confused. “What are you doing here?” 

She looked at you as if you’d grown two heads. “You’re my friend. I refuse to believe that you’d go against everything you stand for just to become a spy for the First Order. I believe I know you better than that. You’re here to save, not to destroy.” With a smirk, she added, “Well, pulling your friends out of the First Order might destroy it, but you know what I meant.” 

You nodded. Without Kylo and Hux, Phasma must have been reeling trying to keep the ruins from crumbling further. You admired her strength, both physical and mental. You speared a peach before shoving it in your mouth. The sweet fruit was still somehow tasteless, as all good had become.

“Still radio silence from your boyfriend?” Jessika asked. 

You nodded, spearing another peach and shoving it in your mouth.

“Cat caught your tongue?” 

You hadn’t been looking at her most of the time, but rather, the two men who sat behind her. He and his buddy had been looking back at her -- and you -- since you sat down. “Did I tell you I started combat training?” you mentioned to her. 

“What? No, why would you have done--” She paused, and then she suddenly seemed to understand. She turned, saw the two men, and turned back to you. “Oh no.” 

“Oh yes,” you muttered as the two men rose. You gripped your fork a little tighter, as if the plastic item would help you at all. It bent in your grip, your nails damaging the cheap material. Maybe if you timed this right....

They approached the two of you, one sitting on either side of Jessika. “Hello, princess,” one cooed, and the other smiled. “Interesting you hang with the Sith, eh?” 

“She’s the furthest thing from a Sith,” Jessika snapped and threw off their hands, disgust clouding her face. “And I’ll have you court-martialed for assaulting a higher-ranking officer if you do not get out of a six foot radius of me.” 

The two men smirked, exchanging glances, and then came round to you, sitting on either side of you. “So  _ you’re _ the type of girl that asshole likes, hmm?” One asked, reaching to run a hand through your falling bun. 

You grabbed his hand and slammed it to the table, the reflex much faster than you’d anticipated. However, it didn’t seem to get your point across, because the other one placed his hand on your lower back.

The other looked at you in shock, and then, “Of  _ course  _ he taught you to fight. Were you one of his Knights, love? Hmm?” 

Your mind flicked to the Knights, whom were deadly in nature. You had never seen them in action, but were certain that they were just as deadly and terrifying as Kylo. He’d probably assigned them to protect you, at one point. But oh, how wrong he was about you  _ being _ one. 

“Let go of me,” you hissed, glaring at him. 

He chuckled, eyes mischievous, and leaned in for a kiss. 

You ripped the pen-blade out of your hair, slashing at his face and giving him a scar to match Kylo’s as you rolled out of the seat, the man roaring in pain. Jessika lept to your defense, drawing her blaster from its holster on her thigh and keeping it trained on the other man. She stood on the bench, one foot on the actual table. Her drink was knocked over, dripping down onto the tile floor in a slow-motion haze.  

The world stood still for a moment, barely moving. You dared them to move, your hair having fallen around your face in a chaotic tangle. However, it wasn’t them you had to worry about. Behind you, six others had gathered, and Jessika couldn’t get her warning out fast enough to you. 

One grabbed you, restraining your shouts of anger and thrashings with a simple movement, and the others circled you, brandishing certain weapons. Three women and two men circled you, and based on how tightly you were pressed against the other’s chest, there was another woman behind you. 

In a desperate attempt, you called on the Force. It hadn’t responded in situations like this before, but it might now, and it did. 

The five not holding you were shoved back and you were able to fight off the one holding you, possibly breaking her nose in the process. Metal materials warped around you as they were sent flying back, you struggling against the attackers. They kept coming at you, but you were able to hold them off with them gaining ground when someone shouted, “ _ Enough! _ ” 

The entirety of the cafeteria went dead silent, considering most of the people had gotten up to watch and cheer on either you or the offending officers. You were released immediately, dropping onto your hands and knees gasping for breath, and you could hear their thoughts gather to come up with an excuse for their unruly behavior. When you looked up, you saw a pale, heaving Jessika next to an equally exercised Poe. A dark-haired, tall, pale girl was standing next to a woman you recognized from Kylo’s memories and your own experiences:  _ Leia. _

“I bring this girl here under the premise that she will be  _ safe, _ ” Leia snarls, stalking closer to the offending people. “And the  _ eight  _ of you decide it’s a good idea to attack a neutral party that can help me in my own personal missions. How  _ dare  _ you.” 

The dark-haired woman glared at the eight people who were standing there, looking ashamed of themselves. She stalked closer to them, inspecting each and every one of them, her violet eyes piercing and calculating.  She met your gaze, towering over you almost as much as Kylo does, and something sparked before she turned to her people. “All of you, report to my office in an hour. Bring your items with you, something tells me your stay with the Republic is over.” She met your gaze again, nodded, and rolled her shoulder, silver and black cape drifting lightly with the movement. With a swift turn, her cloak floated on the air behind her, and she stalked out of the cafeteria. 

Jessika came over to you, cradling your face. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded, rubbing at your bruised throat. “I’m okay. Been through worse.” 

She wrapped you in her arms, sighing in relief. “Thank the Force.” 

“You went to get Leia,” you muttered, nodding at the general who was approaching the two of you. 

“Actually, she went to retrieve Captain Solus, whom you just met.” Leia nodded at you. “I would introduce myself, but you obviously know who I am. We’ve been here before.”

“It’s hard not to, considering how acquainted I am with your son,” you murmured, not meeting her gaze. “I am not the same person from six months ago, General.”

Leia’s eyes fell harder than her smile did. She knew how hard you were hurting. “How long has the Bond been silent?” 

You looked her in the eye. “How long has yours?” 

The connection was made on her face, and she took you by the hand, leading you out of the cafeteria and down the hall to a door, which was elegantly molded metal. She entered a keycode and you two entered the room, finding it to be her personal quarters. The setup was essentially the same as yours, but everything was more ornate, and had the smell of old books and wood. 

“When was the last time you heard from my son?” Leia asked, and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself from the onslaught of memories. Internally, you knew that you were going to be a wreck after this anyway.

“When he locked me in the ship with Phasma, Talia, and Amena,” you muttered. “He shut it off. Just like a damn switch.  But bits and pieces are there, still. He couldn’t keep parts of it from me until Rey.” Your body ached, remembering the wounds you had so desperately tried to erase from your memory.

“Was Han still alive?” Leia asked, her voice a breathy rasp. 

You swallowed. “It was like I was in Kylo’s body as he was killed.” Your voice was tight, harsh, as if you didn’t want to say anything, which you didn’t. It was painful to remember what you experienced through Kylo, and every time you went through your memories of it it was as if you were drowning in darkness too, Snoke’s words echoing in your head as if  _ you _ were supposed to kill Han, not Kylo. “But I knew he didn’t want to do it. Everything in his head, it was all a confused mush. Scenarios. Things he wanted to say but couldn’t. I’m fairly certain Snoke made me stay, just to break me as much as it would break him.” 

You sat on the floor, in the corner, shaking. It was too much to remember. The emotional pain, the confusion in Kylo’s brain, what he really wanted and what he didn’t-- you couldn’t remember up from down while you were with him. You felt the weight of the saber in your hand, of Kylo’s saber, but you couldn’t remember if it was because of the time you spent in Kylo’s head at the end of it all or when you took care of Stratoveer as Kylo lay on his deathbed.  _ Silver nitrate, _ you remembered. 

Leia nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “I understand.” 

You wanted to scream out that she didn’t, that she had no idea what you were going through, but then again, you didn’t know what kind of hope she had felt when Kylo had offered his father his saber, and the amount of physical pain it must have been to have that ripped from you. But  _ she _ didn’t know what it was like, having that  _ demon _ of a leader called Snoke in your head, laughing that maniacal laugh that haunted your dreams since you came on Starkiller. It used to scare you. Now it only angered you. 

She offered you a shot glass filled with whiskey, and you took it gingerly, throwing it back with a grimace. “Ben used to have these horrible anxiety attacks while he was with Luke. He would comm me, saying, ‘I don’t know what to do, he’s shaking, I can’t stop it’ and he’d just put the comm near Ben so he could hear me. It worked, until one day my voice was replaced with Snoke’s. Maybe it was always Snoke who calmed him down, and I never did.” She studied her glass before filling it again, sitting next to you and filling yours as well. 

“Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have been a better mother. It was what was wrong with  _ him _ that was the problem.” You threw back the shot, and sighed as the burning alcohol relaxed you. 

“Yet you fell in love with him.” 

“I fell for him so hard he gave me seven stitches,” you chuckled.

She smirked, a small chuckle leaving her throat, and brushed a loose gray hair from her face. “Where did we go wrong?” 

“Other than deciding it was an excellent idea to lock him far, far away to teach him to control his anger when it was already too late?” you asked, clearing your throat. “I apologize, that was rude of me. But seriously, how old was Kylo when you sent him to Luke?” 

“Ten.” 

You shook your head. “I’ve done a lot of reading on old texts from the Jedi, and they all took their apprentices at a very, very young age. Anakin and Ben were examples of people who weren’t, and all sorts of wonderful shit happened.” You brushed your hair out of your eyes, sighing. “I miss him.” 

“What about Rey?” Leia asked. “She has her shit together.” 

“Something’s not right about Rey.” You recalled the Jakku scavenger--bits of memory from Kylo’s mind at the time of their fight, the nineteen-year-old all too familiar in his mind. “Was she trained before?” 

“I wouldn’t be the one to know. Poe Dameron and Finn were closest to her, and Captain Solus has her files.” 

“Wouldn’t be in her files, not if her memory was wiped.” You rose to your feet. “My cat is probably wondering where I am.” 

Leia nodded. “If you  _ ever _ need anything,” she muttered, looking up at you with sad eyes, “come to me. If Ben found you worthy of his attention, it means you’re practically family.” 

You smiled, a legit smile for the first time in a while. “Thank you, General.” 

“Also,” she called after you, “if you hear from my father, tell him he’s an ass. But I get it.” 

You laughed, practically feeling Anakin’s amusement.  _ So much like her mother.  _

\----------

As you had anticipated, your cat  _ did  _ wonder where you had gone. Unfortunately it meant that every glass on the counter had been casually shoved off, and there were books on the floor from the highest shelf where he’d made himself at home. Asshole. 

The shards of broken glass that scattered the kitchen floor with your cat a seeming perfect angel on his four-foot-high perch on the counter. You stared at him, daring him to do anything else. He didn’t, but you gathered the broom and dustpan before scooping up the shards of glass and dumping them in the wastebin. The books, though slightly ruffled, were fine as you returned them to their shelf, making a mental note to make sure he had other high places he could be. 

_ What now, Anakin?  _ You asked, and you felt his presence around you. 

_ Honestly? I have no idea.  _

_ Thanks, you’re lots of help, _ you muttered, and you swore you could hear people laughing in the background. 

_ I’m figuring this out as I go along, leave me alone, _ he muttered, huffing off to wherever the ghosts of former Sith lords go to save their family. 

You turned to your staff, picking the weighted metal up in your hand. Pickles mewed at you from the corner, jumping on the reading chair and promptly falling asleep. You had spoiled him rotten, and it was clear he had missed you. 

You remembered your training sessions with Damien, and you smiled, preparing to go through traditional forms before your doorbell buzzed. Confused, you opened the door, and saw two female guards standing there, blasters on their hips. An eagle was embroidered onto both shoulders of their uniform, the girls standing at attention with a solemn look. “Captain Solus requests your presence.” 

“Can I make myself presentable first?” you asked, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“She wished for you to come immediately.” 

You groaned, and allowed for the two women to take you down the halls to an area that seemed to be designated for training. There, Solus was waiting, standing at her full height in bare feet with her back to you. She was dressed in all black, wearing a sleeveless, hooded tunic with red stitching, cinched at the waist with a red belt. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she was a Sith. 

“Captain, the girl you requested is here.” 

“Dismissed.” Solus’s voice was clipped, short, and deeper than the average woman’s. She reminded you of Phasma in a way. The two women stood at attention, saluted, and backed out of the room.

She turned to you, a black wood staff in her hands, twirling it between her hands in an absentminded manner. “So. How much did Kylo teach you?” Her eyes were guarded, tense, as if she wasn’t sure if you were friend or foe. In all honesty, you felt the same about her. 

“About what?” You replied, and Solus shrugged. 

“Anything. Politics, the Force, fighting, any of it. You’re fairly scrappy when it comes to fighting but poorly trained. Your call on the Force was sloppy and you expended more energy than was necessary. You allowed Pava to handle the situation until it was directed at you, where you immediately resorted to violence. You’re making it  _ very  _ difficult for my troops to believe you’re on their side.” 

“That’s because I’m not. I’m not on anyone’s side.” 

“I find that hard to believe,  _ Doctor, _ ” she hissed out, her violet eyes harsh and flinty before tossing the staff to you. “I saw what you came in to this base with. Try to hit me.” There was an underlying  _ I dare you _ under her condescending tone, and you promptly tried to get in her head. Her walls were so strong, you doubted Kylo would be able to break through. 

She took a defensive stance, her hair secured behind her head in a series of buns similar to that of the scavenger Kylo had fought. In fact, she looked similar to her in a way.  _ Were they related? _

You shook your head. “I won’t fight you.” 

Solus sighed, shaking her head and turning her back to you. “Shame. You have so much potential, yet you refuse to see it.” 

You approached her to hand the staff back, but in the blink of an eye, she had ripped the staff from your hands and had the end at the hollow in your throat, her foot on your chest. You stared up at her in shock, her bangs falling around her face in straight sheets, framing tanned skin that was scarred but yet somehow still beautiful. 

“What the hell!” you snapped as she allowed you back up. 

“Don’t question, just act.” 

You huffed, taking a stance, and she came at you again. 

You ducked, attempting to sweep her feet out from under her, but she kicked you back, the staff at your throat again. “Too slow. Again,” she barked, and you groaned, picking yourself up off the wood floor. 

This is how you spent your evening, growing increasingly frustrated with this woman who seemed to be trying to  _ kill _ you. 

“Enough,” you finally panted, glaring at her. She took a swing but you stopped the wood staff about six inches from you with the Force. “ _ I said enough. _ What’s the point of this? I don’t understand.”

“The  _ point,  _ dear doctor,” she hissed, “is that when you go up to face Snoke, to face Kylo and Hux and Phasma and all of them, you will be a bug squashed under their heel in an instant. You. Are. Nothing. To. Them.  _ Especially  _ now that you’ve come to Leia. By now they already know. They may have been your friends, Doctor, but now they may not feel the same way. You have to be ready to defend yourself if one of them comes after you.” 

“But.... Kylo, he’s my boyfriend.” 

Solus literally froze, staring at you in shock, violet eyes wide. “ _ What? _ ” she breathed, her voice menacing. She leaned on the staff, her head parallel to the floor, top of her head against the staff. 

“Kylo Ren is my boyfriend,” you snarled back, stronger this time, and she stood straight, hand in her now-loose black hair. You backed away, and in a roar of anger, she spun and threw the staff so hard it acted as a spear and shattered the mirror and damaged the plaster wall behind the mirror. You were mildly impressed, though terrified, at the sudden outburst of anger. 

“Get out,” Solus hissed at you. “ _ Now. _ ” 

You didn’t have to be told twice. You high-tailed it outta there like a bat out of hell, leaving Solus to calm herself down. The door slammed shut behind you, and you felt the Force being called upon. Things were shattered, and you bolted down the corridor as fast as your feet could carry you. You knew better than to think with someone with Kylo’s strength wouldn’t be able to hurt you in an outlash like that. You were strong, but not that strong, not impervious.

Jessika found you, and caught your arm as you tried to run past. Her dark eyes were confused, concerned, as she asked, “What’s wrong?” 

“Solus,” you panted, nodding in the direction of the training room. 

Jessika sighed. “What’d she break?” Her attitude was like this type of a thing had happened before, and you didn’t want to get caught up in the middle of it. Whatever she was, whoever she was, Solus was clearly trained in the Force and very good at it.

“Me, and then a mirror and the wall,” you murmured, still catching your breath. 

“Oh shit. Yeah, we’re not dealing with that. She sent you away?”  Jessika took you by the arm, hauling you up and away from Solus’s episode.

You nodded. 

“What did you tell her?” 

“That I was Kylo’s girlfriend.” 

“Oh, that explains it. She knew the rumor, I’m surprised she pushed you as far as she did to get that out of you.” Jessika led you down the stone-lined halls, wandering aimlessly. “Did she even ask you?” 

“No. She just.... Pushed me too far.” 

“Her plans weighed heavily on you  _ not _ being romantically involved with the homicidal Sith lord maniac you call your boyfriend, so I understand her anger. She and Finn don’t get along because Finn’s intimate knowledge of the Starkiller base was a last-minute addition to her “things that could go wrong” category. So she had to send Han, Rey, Chewy, and Finn in blind. She still blames herself for General Solo’s death.” Jessika lead you through the halls, the wood floors shining as if they were just polished. 

“She’s a bit of an ass,” you remarked. 

“She’s become very different since Starkiller was destroyed. She was very close with the Skywalker family, rumor has it. She took Solo’s death just as personally as Leia did.” Jessika poked her head in a room and gathered a couple loaves of bread and a container of water. “Here, you look famished. She must’ve had you for a while.” 

“A few hours,” you muttered. 

“Makes sense. She taught you something, though.” 

“Which is what, exactly?” You asked her as you ripped open the warm bread, the soft innards still steaming. It burned your fingers a little bit as you tore into it. 

Jessika tore into the spare loaf, shrugging, and then said through a mouthful of food, “You’ll know when you need to know. Remember that she’s on your side. So are Poe and I. We feel that even though you’re close with Captain Pissoff, Masky McTantrum, and Ginger Starkiller, it’s only because you know them as people and not figureheads. You always fall in love with the best in people, and you could always tell who was really on your side or not.” 

“Thank you,” you murmured, tearing into the loaf of bread.

She swallowed. “No problem, doc. What brought you on Starkiller anyway?” 

“They needed an epidemiologist to tell them why their Stormtroopers were having neurotic episodes. So they brought me aboard,” you shrugged. “It was fun, actually. Kinda new, kinda not.” 

“Well, what was wrong with them?” 

“Their dementia was directly linked to unreported concussions. You have no idea how grateful Phasma was that we found the source of her men going mental on her.” 

“Were you able to stop the episodes from happening?” 

You looked Jessika in the eye, your voice a deadly whisper. “Three days later I was put on a shuttle with Talia, Amena, and Phasma and told not to come back by the man who had begun a spiral into madness that I called my boyfriend.” 

Jessika paused. “Oh. I’m sorry, friend. You always wanted to save people.” 

“That’s why I went. I thought I was there to save the Stormtroopers, but I was really there to save Kylo.” You shrugged. “My life has been torn apart and carefully reconstructed so many times over the past year and a half it isn’t funny.” 

“Who was it that said this.... Wasn’t it, like, I don’t know, our first year Basic professor? Didn’t he say--” 

“ ‘You all have a little ‘I want to save the world’ in you. It’s why you’re here, in college, and I need you to know that you won’t save everyone, and it’s alright if the person you save is you.’ ”

You and Jessika turned to see Poe standing there, smiling. “I’m impressed you remember that,” Jessika smirked, laughing. “You skipped that class most of the year.” 

“I was there for that, and how can someone ever forget something as powerful as that?” Poe clapped you on the shoulder, his smile a sad one. “I’m sorry for Finn, by the way. There’s no reason for his jackassery. He’s a really sweet guy, I promise.” 

“It’s alright. I understand his anger. It’s not directed at me, it’s directed at my relationship with the man who may or may not have tried to kill everything he holds dear. And him.” 

Poe snorted. “Yeah.” 

“I’ll see you two hotshots later,” Jessika smirked. “I’ve got a date with a lovely man back home.” She slipped away with a wink, and disappeared down the hall. 

“She’s dating someone?” 

“She’s talking about her dog,” Poe stated dryly, shaking his head. “It’s been an honor being able to work with her. She’s probably the best mechanic we’ve got. Organa says she gives Luke a run for his money. Old man probably doesn’t remember how to repair anything anymore.”

Poe started walking you back towards your room, seeing the exhaustion on your face. “Tomorrow Jessika and I will take you to the market. We have the day off and I’m not confident Captain Solus’s example with the eight infantry that came after you today is enough to keep everyone else in check.” 

You nodded, and the rest of the walk was in a comfortable silence until you got back to your bunker. 

“Here we are.” Poe let you enter your code yourself, looking away so he didn’t see it. “Go take care of Pickles, he was driving Jessika and Finn up the wall while he was with us.” 

You nodded. “Thank you, Poe. For sticking by me.” 

“Yeah, well,” he smirked, returning your tight hug, “as badly as I want to bitch slap your boyfriend, you’re the best judge in character I know. If you think you can save him, I’ll try to help you do that. Finn’ll come around. See you tomorrow, kid.” 

Poe smiled one last time before heading down the hall, leaving you to enter your bunker and get some rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I posted this on Tumblr like, at 11 PM CST last night on Tumblr and promptly crashed. It is now 10 AM and I'm on my school wifi posting this. (AO3 is blacklisted and I can still get on??? Hell yeah, thank you firewalls or VPN or whatever the shit they're called. I'm a writer, not a techie.) Anyway, here is *dun dun dun* CAPTAIN SOLUS!! Can you tell I got like four hours of actual sleep? And I'm on a caffeine high? Is it that obvious???  
> Ahahahaa. Excuse the ramblings of a stressed teenager. I'll see you all in SW hell. Or heaven, whichever.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your search for Kylo has called him to you, if only temporary. Your day with Jessika and Poe leads to answers and some sort of.... Belonging, in a way. Only time will show where this new life and your training will take you.

_ Your body was a little bit  _ more than just angry at you. Your arms and hands were bruised, swollen, and battered from trying to defend against Solus’s furious attacks yesterday, and based on the rest of your body, your legs and torso fared no better. You were flat on your back, the soft mattress cradling your body in a soft cloud of comfort. 

And then you felt it. 

It was a shift, a shift in the Force bond between you and Kylo. 

Immediately you pounced on it, tearing the little shift apart into little pieces, begging Kylo to be there. You could feel his concern, and it washed over you like a tide of relief.  _ Kylo! _ You shouted into the bond, and you felt some physical relief wash over you, but it was gone before you could throw the door open and march right on into Kylo’s head to demand answers. Your voice echoed back, sullen, empty, broken. 

It was more breaking than the first time it happened. 

You lay in the bed, rolling over and sobbing into your pillow. You had felt everything from him in the twenty, thirty seconds he was back in your head, his pain, his concern, his fear, his love. You felt all of it. 

And then it was all ripped away again. 

It was like your heart had been ripped out of your chest, and you knew at this point that Kylo’s silence was of his own creation. He wouldn’t come and go like that, not unless he was trying to keep you out. 

Pickles mewled beside your ear, nuzzling your mess of hair before flopping right on top of your head. He was trying to help, he swears. And you took that wholehearted affection for what it was worth. 

_ Get over yourself,  _ you muttered, sitting up and wiping your eyes.  _ It probably wasn’t him anyway. Could’ve been Anakin, or Leia, or Solus even. Luke, possibly, but not likely.  _

You gave Pickles a kiss on his forehead, the sleepy kitty purring in response, and you winced as you rose from the bed, your entire body screaming out in pain. Your knees gave out from under you, and you fell to the floor, managing to roll onto your back in the process. You stared up at the ceiling, slowly accepting your fate, to be in pain forever. 

Anakin leaned over you, eyebrow raised.  _ Really? _

“What the hell do you want?” 

_ Well, you to get off the floor.  _

“What are you, my guardian angel?” 

_ Actually, more like your demon sent to fuck things up from the nether.  _ Anakin sat next to you, his knees pulled to his chest.  _ You felt him, didn’t you? _

“No, I just spent the last twenty minutes bawling my eyes out over nothing.” 

_ You are in considerable pain. _

“Yeah yeah.” You pushed yourself up off the floor, sitting up and cradling your face in your hands. “Why the hell does he do that to me?” 

_ He’s trying to protect you. Clearly that isn’t working considering the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. _

“Why are you here again?”  You hissed out, your voice muffled by your hands.

_ Because it’s my fault this mess started. Might as well clean up my mess. _

“As if the Skywalker family hasn’t fucked enough shit up in my life already,” you muttered, and you heard Anakin laugh. 

_ Padme has said similar things since I’ve joined her here. She’s quite lovely. Leia takes after her in many ways.  _

You rolled your eyes in response, the black-cloaked Jedi-turned-Sith-turned-Jedi still towering over you. You could see that Kylo really got his looks from his father, not his mother, despite his almost black hair. His light scar didn’t mar his beauty, not at all, but you found it a shame that he was one of those people doomed to eternal pain, much like Kylo if you couldn’t stop what was happening. You kind of wished he’d go, leave you alone, but you knew that he wouldn’t be here if you could do it on your own. “I have a question,” you muttered, your mind flipping to that of Kylo. 

_ Of course. _

“Why didn’t you stop Snoke?” 

Anakin froze. He probably didn’t know how to respond. His eyes fixed on the floor, and then he brushed his hair behind his ear, sighing.  _ I wasn’t strong enough. _

You wondered how much strength it took Anakin to admit his weaknesses. You were, in fact, mildly impressed. “I have places I have to be,” you finally said to him after a long while, gathering clothes from the closet and heading into the refresher. 

_ With that pilot and Stormtrooper, right? _

“Hopefully not the Stormtrooper,” you sighed, changing your clothes and washing your face. 

_ So the two pilots, then? _

“Yeah, though Jessika hasn’t done much flying since Starkiller.” You opened the door to the refresher, but didn’t step out until your hair was in a braided bun at the base of your skull, your pen-knife that Samson had given you lodged in it. You hated the fact you were so  _ used _ to walking around with a weapon. 

When you came out of the refresher, Anakin was gone, though you knew he would say something if he needed to. You felt Poe and Jessika approaching, and you gathered your things and the list you’d made and opened the door just as Poe was about to press the buzzer. 

“Oh, what a coincidence,” Poe smiled, and you smirked. 

“Not really. It’s easy to pick up Force signatures now, courtesy of living with Kylo Ren,” you smiled. 

Poe rolled his eyes and you draped the leather jacket over your arm, the black tank top you were wearing cinched at the waist with a deep red belt and your leggings the same red. Jessika wore a similar jacket, her white shirt and high-waisted trousers matching her personality quite well. Poe was in his usual attire, his flight jacket draping off his shoulders like it did the day you saw him buy it in college. 

You three were the most rag-tag team ever, and you still were. Despite you three still being so different than you were in undergrad, you were still a close-knit group. Jessika and Poe were just as different, just as unique, but the three of you were still like a puzzle; you just  _ fit. _

Poe led you off-base and into the market, where the hustle-bustle of the market greeted your ears. “A list?” Jessika smirked as you scavenged around the varying tables for clothes, books, and food. 

“You know it,” you smiled, playfully elbowing her. 

She nodded, her eyes a happy brown and her smile as wide as ever. Poe offered you his arm, and you looped it through his, playfully wandering through the market, buying things that were needed and wanted. The bustling towns on D’Qar reminded you that, yes, this is a political hotspot -- but average, normal people lived here. 

There was tight security, though. Being so close to Leia, to high-ranking officials of the New Republic and, lesser-known, the Resistance, there would have to be.  _ Especially  _ with Leia’s son being the crazy antagonizer of the entire galaxy. 

Some of the traders acted like they had seen you before, which was impossible, but you thought very little of it. Jessika and Poe bought some caf from a vendor and you three sipped at it, chattering happily even as the sky clouded over and it started to rain. You pulled the hood on your cloak up, the rain rolling off the back of it. 

You bought a leather bracelet with a silver dragon on it, the dark woven hide pairing with your fair skin in a stunning way.

When the sky cleared, you, Poe, and Jessika went back towards base, carrying some of  your items together and chattering away still. The rest was taken to your respective bunkers by couriers. 

Jessika and Poe split away from you, heading towards the pilot’s wing with promise of a return later after walking you to your bunker. You entered your keycode and entered your room, finding the food you bought on your table. You didn’t want to think of what else they had gone through. 

You put the books on the shelves alongside the ones from Kylo’s collection, your clothes in the closet, and the food in the cabinets--it was starting to feel more like a home than a place you were to spend your time during your tenure as a wannabe Jedi. 

A comm came through--you answered, the tones driving you insane. 

“Hey, it’s Poe. Jessika and I were wondering if it was alright to bring Finn later, to help him get over whatever it is that he has against you. Okay?” 

You paused, not even having said hello. “Uh, sure, I guess. He’s your  _ boyfriend, _ Poe, I pretty much expect him around.” 

“Thanks, Doc,” he playfully says. “We’ll be there.” 

You sighed, setting the comm down before deciding to make tea while comming Samson. 

You entered the numbers with a practised precision, and it rang precisely five times before he answered. 

“Hullo?” He asked, his voice coming crackly through the long-distance connection. 

“Samson!” You squealed happily, and you heard his giggle of surprise. 

“Oh! Hey!” He laughed, and you beamed at the sound of his excitement. “I was getting worried you weren’t gonna call. You know, Jedi business.” 

You laughed, but it didn’t make you feel any better. “I’m only  _ playing _ Jedi, Sam. No where near as good as Luke was, or Obi-Wan, or any of them.” 

You felt Anakin’s protest but you silenced it with a simple Force trick, the ghost of the man angrily staring at you from across the table until he disappeared again. 

“Luke’s a whiny bitch, but okay,” Samson muttered. 

“Honestly, when aren’t the Skywalkers whiny and bitchy?” You laughed, thinking of all the times Kylo was upset for not getting his way. 

“Leia,” Samson reasoned.

“Leia is an outlier and should not have been counted,” you retorted, and Samson laughed. 

“Yeah, there you are,” Samson sighed, and he was probably smiling at his kitchen table, much like you now were with your warm mug of tea in your palms. “I was worried about what you would end up turning into when you got there.” 

“I’ve been here three days, Sam, who knows what I’ll turn into,” you sighed, and then shrugged. “Jessika and Poe make it bearable. Leia is.... Grieving. Looking for answers. Finn is hating me for something Kylo did, and now the entire base knows about Kylo and I. Yesterday, eight infantry attempted to.... You know, I don’t even know what their gameplan was. It wouldn’t have ended well for me if Jessika and Poe hadn’t gotten Captain Solus.” 

“ _ Captain Solus? _ ” Samson hissed out, his voice sharp, as if he’d just stepped on a tack. 

“Yes. You know her?” 

Samson paused. “I used to,” he finally replied after a long silence, and you sipped at your tea. 

_ He’s hiding something.  _

You didn’t comment, and then he sighed. “From a long time ago, that is. She was.... She was a prodigy. Thought she was dead, really.” 

You nodded. “That seems to be a theme, really. No one seems to be the way everyone thinks they are.” 

He nodded. “ _ Especially _ Solus. If I were you, I’d be careful around her.” 

“You wouldn’t trust her?” 

“No, I’d trust her. But don’t become attached. She has a tendency to vanish to do her own bidding. Something about a mistake that happened when she was fifteen.” 

You nodded, and the length in the silence grew. Your tea grew cold, and you felt restless. 

“When was the last time you meditated?” Samson suddenly asked. 

“A few days. I don’t feel I’ve found a good space yet.” You spun the mug in your hands, the smooth rasp of the cup on the wood table calming you somehow. 

“Well, you need to. I can feel your stress from here,” Samson joked, and you cracked a smile before it faded from your face. 

“I miss you,” you muttered, and you heard Samson sigh. 

“I know. I’ve got things to take care of here before I can go to D’Qar. I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to come,” you sighed. “Stay. Take care of Damien.”

Samson snorted. “He was  _ so _ set on wooing you, you know.” 

“He can go--” A sharp  _ crash _ came from out in the hall, and you stopped, hands searching for something to defend yourself with. Samson’s concern crackled through the comm. “I have to go,” you amended, eyes not leaving the door and heading for your staff halfway across the room. 

“Okay. Don’t do anything rash,” Samson smiled, and he terminated the comm. 

You grabbed your staff, walking towards the door and poking your head out into the hallway, only to see Finn, Poe, and Jessika giggling. 

“Guys, what the hell,” you muttered. “I was talking to Samson. You could have just walked in instead of me prepared to fight all of you.” 

Jessika giggled and the three of them came into your bunker, crashing at the kitchen table. 

For hours you all sat and talked and  _ drank, _ and the four of you laughed and giggled your way through the night. Finn was warming up to you, starting to realize you aren’t the enemy. 

Or he was just a happy drunk. 

Poe leaned on Finn like he was their crutch, and the two men were so affectionate in some cases you told them to get a room and Jessika howled with laughter, at one point falling off the bench onto the floor and crying she was laughing so hard. 

You almost threw up a few times from laughing, and then the group one by one succumbed to sleep. Jessika and you were in your room, on your bed, and Poe and Finn were on the couch snuggled under a throw blanket. 

Jessika’s head rested on your shoulder, and your hand found its way around her waist, and the two of you fell asleep like that. 

\-----------------------------

You woke up with a faceful of Jessika’s hair in your face and almost pushed out of bed. 

You groaned and got out of the bed, staggering as the full force of your hangover hit you like one of Solus’s staffs. You caught yourself on the wall, gasping for air, until the wave of nausea passed. 

Staggering to the kitchen was far more difficult than you had imagined, your hangover making even the simplest tasks difficult and painful. Your stomach lurched with each step you took, and you had to pause halfway to the kitchen to catch your breath. 

Pickles had made himself at home atop Poe’s face, who had at some point during the night fallen on the floor from the couch. Finn’s hand was buried in Pickle’s fur still, which means that at some point Finn had woken up and instead of moving the cat from his boyfriend’s face, decided to pet him. 

Drunk boyfriends. 

You made coffee, and started chopping up food to make breakfast. The scent of the food and coffee drew everyone to the coffee table, and one by one, the pale, glassy-eyed Resistance fighters came to the table, where empty bottles of wine and whiskey still sat, remnants of the night before. 

You set the food in front of them, each of them already have gotten coffee, and they dug in, grimacing as their nauseated stomachs rejected the food they forced to keep down. 

“Remind me to never drink again,” Finn muttered, and you laughed a little, but you did your best to keep it on the down-low. Your stomach lurched still, and laughing didn't help. 

As they recovered, chatter started up, but you stared at your food, remembering that it was a dish Kylo had made for you one morning. A single tear slipped out of your eyes before you wiped it away, pretending everything was okay. 

You finished your food and gathered up the plates, putting them in the sink before rejoining your friends. 

“You okay?” Jessika asked you, to which you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

“I just miss him. I hope that I can do what I came here to do soon and get out of everyone’s hair,” you muttered, and the look on Finn’s face was a mixture of sympathy and disgust, as if he couldn’t figure out his emotions for you. You didn’t blame him. 

This entire situation was a mess, and you hated it.

Poe, Finn, and Jessika left some time after, leaving you alone with your thoughts and dreams. 

You were reading one of the books you’d bought when someone knocked on your door, almost pounded. 

“It’s Captain Solus. I need to speak with you,” she called. 

You rolled your eyes and went back to your book. 

“Don’t ignore me. I will get in one way or another.” 

You didn’t reply. 

“Fine. You brought this on yourself.” 

You felt Solus calling on the Force, and with a soft  _ click _ , the door slid open. You were still in your pajamas, draped over the armchair, casually reading. 

“Really?” Solus asked you dryly, closing the door behind her. 

“Last time I checked, when someone doesn’t answer their door, it means they don’t want to be bothered,” you muttered, turning the page and not looking at her. 

“Dammit,” Solus muttered, growling out her reply. “This is  _ important. _ ” 

“Then tell Leia. I hold no position in this organization.” Your retort was dry, your tone unwelcome. Won’t she just  _ leave _ already?

Solus growled, glaring at you. “It has to do with your crazy boyfriend.” 

“Again, Leia is also acceptable to tell this to,” you sighed, turning the page again, but had to go back and reread the last paragraph. She was too much of a distraction.

Solus just glared at you for a few solid seconds, daring you to say anything further. She ran a hand through her black hair, her eyes darting about the room looking for something to use against you-- something, anything. Finding nothing, her gaze settled back on you. 

“Dammit, Doctor,” Solus sighed, turning away from you. You looked up at her, spotting a scar on her back -- a wicked scar, one she shouldn’t have been able to survive from. It cut across her spine and vanished above and below the hemlines of her dark gray pants and black halter top respectively. 

“Where’d you get that?” You blurted out suddenly, and Solus paused. 

“Get what?” She asked, turning to look at you. 

“Your scar.” 

Immediately she went rigid, her entire body as if it had been petrified. It took a moment for her to answer, and when she did, she said, “An accident when I was fifteen.” 

Sensing that was all she was going to say on the matter, you moved on. “What is it, anyway? What you want to tell me?” 

“Kylo’s Force signature was found yesterday morning. We weren’t able to track it to where he is, but at least we know what side of the galaxy he’s on.” 

“I know. He exploited the bond he and I share.” You sucked in a breath, preparing for the onslaught of questions. 

She paused, and then said, “He healed you and then left, huh?” Solus smirked, and you shrugged. 

“Pretty much. It hurt more feeling him leave the second time.” 

“I’m sure it did,” she sighed, and sat on the couch. “I need you to understand something, Doc.” 

“Yeah?” 

“If we find Kylo, if we find these First Order people, and you want them alive.... You’ll have to stop me from killing them.” 

You set your book down and looked her in the eye, carefully mulling over your words before speaking. “Then I’ll do what I have to do to protect my friends.” 

Solus smirked, laughing at herself. “You remind me of how I used to be, before I got this scar,” she smiled, but it was as if she was mocking herself, for how foolish she felt she’d been. “Oh, how good it was back then. If I had only known....”  _ If I had only known, _ you echoed. How right she was. 

“Before everything went south?” You asked. 

She nodded, lips pressed together. “Before everything went south,” she affirmed.

You two sat in silence for a moment, and finally you stood. “Where do you think this search will head?” You suddenly asked, and Solus looked at you as you headed for the corner, staring at the staff.

“Violence, almost certainly,” she said, looking at you in confusion. “Why?” 

You picked up your staff from the corner, offering it to her with a simple extravagance. “Then train me.” 

“I won’t send you into  _ combat, _ ” Solus snapped, eyes narrowed. “That’s ridiculous. You have no experience--” 

“ _ Train me, _ Solus. I’m not kidding. I won’t go looking for my friends untrained.” Actually, you would, and that might have been a little too obvious as Solus contemplated her decision, violet eyes guarded.  

Finally, Solus stood, and took the staff you offered her. Her hands closed gently around the wood, fingers flexing as she studied the slim rod of dented, pale wood. “Alright, If you insist. Follow my lead.” 

You nodded, standing beside her as she showed you everything. She taught you how to block, how to dodge, how to disarm and counter. Your arms and body were sore, and you sweat like hell, but you were  _ learning. _ Learning how to defend yourself and fight back, finally. 

It was like a new world. You were drifting from the doctoral part of you--you were becoming something entirely new, entirely void of medical reasoning. 

When Solus determined you had enough for the day, she looked at you and sighed. “This is it, Doctor. Take care the hands of a life-saver don’t become the hands of a life-taker.” 

\---------------------------------------------

_ Kylo looked on from his position _ on the floor, tied down to a cold, durasteel table, slick with his own blood -- his latest torment ordered by Snoke and conducted by Hux nigh on completion.   _ She is being trained, _ Kylo affirmed. He could feel it, in his bones, in what little remained of his soul. 

Hux returned from the durasteel table off to the side of the chamber, in a sleeveless tunic and worn-out trousers that stopped mid-calf. He trailed his slim fingers down the pale underside of Kylo’s forearm, enticing a shiver from the younger, larger male as he took a drag off his cigarette, the smoke mixing in the air above Kylo’s head and fading out of existence. “I don’t wish to do this,” Hux murmured, but the sadistic light in his eyes told Kylo otherwise. Hux got off on this, and they both knew it. Control, perceived strength. As if the man didn’t have enough issues. 

In the shadows, a familiar face stalked. Kylo turned his head as best he could in the restraints; the straps that encircled his wrists, portions of his torso, upper arms, and in three sections down his legs also had a place securing his head to the chamber’s torture table. There, in the shadow, a long, wavy-haired blonde stood there, the familiar brown gaze cutting gashes in Kylo’s skin. The Sith’s dark eyes widened in shock; the disgraced Knight of Ren was thought to be dead, a ghost story. On the other side, Hux laughed, low, menacing, sadistic. “Oh, I found him, Ren. He’s not a ghost story like you thought. He’s anything  _ but.  _ Britain Kazmarek, back from the dead.” 

The blonde’s hands were stationary above Kylo’s torso, fingers twitching with anticipation. Kylo did his best not to struggle. Britain’s power had always been terrifying, nothing of light and all of dark. He was worse in a lot of ways than Snoke. The Supreme Leader always despised him for that. “Can I?” he asked, voice low and in pure joy as to what he was about to do. 

“Wait,” Hux snapped, and Britain whined like a dog, scrolling his fingers while his hands remained stationary, impatient to begin. 

Hux leaned down, eyes the color of sea glass looking deep into Kylo’s dark brown, almost the color of fertile soil, and smirked. “How I’ve wanted to do this....  _ Wanted  _ to see you suffer for all of this doubt.” He stood straight, letting Kylo’s dilated pupils follow him as he backed away from the table. His chest heaved, and his fists balled under the durasteel restraints. A lock, of sorts, was placed on his mind -- completely cutting off his attachment to the Force; one of the many tricks Kazmarek had been able to use. 

“Can I?” Kazmarek asked again, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a petulant child. 

He looked to Hux, eyes begging, pleading. Finally, the ginger gave the okay, and the blond giggled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. A sharp  _ crack _ came from Kylo’s torso, and he shouted in pain and shock. 

“Britain! Slow. Don’t go for the ribs yet,” Hux scolded.

The pain was then introduced in every single bone in his hands and feet, working his way up Kylo’s limbs as each bone was shattered as a form of torment. It was hours of agonizing pain, of slipping in and out of consciousness. Whenever he would pass out, the former Knight would stop, waiting for Kylo come back to the world of the awake before continuing. Eventually Britain just put one of his tricks on Kylo, keeping him awake and very, very aware of what was going on. 

The only bright thing in the room was the cherry glow of the end of Hux’s cigarette. 

Hux watched silently, studying the situation, and when it was over, after hours of agony, Hux walked out, probably to go take a cold shower. 

Oh, how he needed you. So many times he called for you, but with this block, he couldn’t reach you. He felt Britain in his head, digging around, searching, collecting information. It was always his specialty. He’d learned it from Kylo, in fact, and then took his studies to the extreme. Five years his junior, it was rumored he had a twin in the Republic in league with the Gray Jedi -- what was his name? Jacob? Something like that. 

As he was left in the chamber, in the damp cold with his body aching all over as if he were just positively shattered -- which, in a sense, he was -- he bit his lip and thought,  _ This is what I deserve. Everything I put her through, everything I did to her, this is my punishment.  _

But it was the sound of silence that let him start to formulate a plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay tears and sadness and ohh shit what the hell is that sith prince up to
> 
> anyway, sorry for the late / out of sched. update. i don't know when i'll be able to update again; my friend committed suicide and we're all a wreck. i've written him into the draft of the next chapter, but God knows i can't do that boy justice. 
> 
> if any of you ever need someone to talk to, come talk to me. I will answer. i refuse to let this happen to anyone else if I can help it. 
> 
> obsidian, out.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes, change occurs-- but one things remains: your desire for Kylo. As time carries on, you continue to change, and the Force grows within you. So when Kylo breaks his silence, things... change a little.

_ It was the sound of silence. _

It went undisturbed, untouched, as you seemed to float through space and time, the eternal emptiness as haunting as the silence. It was peaceful, though sounds were non-existent, and the light was like that of swimming at midnight--only the dullest of light came through from the full moon. 

You felt something, someone calling out to you-- a ghost from your past, maybe, or someone else’s. The image slammed into you: a dark-haired girl laying face-down, barely breathing; two gray sabers, one beside the girl, the other in the hand of the man who had now cornered a young girl who dared to look up and fight back. It was emotionally charged, suppressed, and this was like a reminder of the darkest time in that girl’s life.  _ Minerva. _ That was her name. 

You seemed to know the girl. 

The image was whisked away, replaced by another: Snoke, standing above a young girl who was dressed in black and blood dotting her face.  _ So young, so volatile, _ you heard Snoke croon, his voice laced with pride, a knotted hand reaching down and lifting the girl’s pale jaw, her face washed white by moonlight. But you watched her rise, a panic on her face, and she ran out, a small infant clutched to her chest in the rain and mud, gray saber engaged and fending off some unseen force, blood dripping from her as it mingled with the pouring rain. Her mouth opened as she screamed, but no sound was heard.

And then it was Kylo. 

He couldn’t have been more than fifteen, staring up at Snoke with the eyes of a lost child, someone who needed someone to look up to.  _ My son....  You will be better than the last. _ It was reminiscent of the girl, the one you just saw. The search for a place to belong was....  _ Undeniable.  _ As if it were your own want and desire. But technically, wasn’t it?

You saw Kylo again, this time as an adult. You were familiar with the scene; you’d watched it from a crack in the door of the room, and you heard Kylo’s voice as if he was next to you:  _ There’s been an awakening. Have you felt it? _ Yes. Yes you have, and it laced everything, the  _ power  _ of the Force permeating every space. It was intoxicating. 

_ Get out of there. _

You heard Anakin’s voice, but you didn’t listen. You tore through the fabrics, feeling the anger, the rage,  _ searching. _ Searching for a new victim, as if it were a being on its own. A ghost of responsibility to find the next thing to abolish it from its host, fleeting from one person to another. It was like  _ you _ became the searcher, and nothing but the fabric of space and time stood between you and your next victim.

_ Doctor! Get out of there! _

Anakin’s voice didn’t shake you, faze you. You were so close to finding Kylo, you could feel him right there, as if he were there to grab your hand, reaching, pining,  _ yearning _ \--

Someone grabbed you and shook you free of your meditative state, and when you opened your eyes, Solus was in front of you, panic and fear in her violet eyes that glinted moonlight that bled in from the window. “If Anakin wouldn’t have called me,” she hissed, breathless, “you would have died.” 

“What?” You asked, looking up at her. “What do you mean?” 

“Snoke,” she muttered, panting and leaning back as if she were in pain. “He’s looking for you. You projecting like that, you reaching for something  _ he possesses, _ only furthers his goal. I felt you from halfway across the base; I knew something was up, especially when I felt Anakin’s presence.” 

Your chest felt tight, and tears leaked from your eyes.  _ Snoke was using Kylo to get to you. _

“If he wanted me so badly,” you hissed out, “why didn’t he take me when he had me? Before Starkiller was destroyed?” 

Solus shook her head, starting to recover. “Who knows? Snoke enjoys drawing out his luring techniques, attacking you when you’re the weakest and overpowering your senses. You can become his puppet if you’re not careful.” 

You leaned back against the wall, groaning. The tightness in your chest faded--you must have been holding your breath.  _ You can become his puppet. _ You suddenly recalled how powerful Snoke claimed he was, how his power could reach across the galaxy in a heartbeat. 

“He was strangling the air from your lungs, Doctor. That isn’t a figment of your imagination.” Solus ran a hand through her hair, and she winced as she moved. “The tightness of your chest, restricted breathing, and pain is symptomatic of that.” 

You narrowed your eyes; she acted as if she knew what you had just experienced, but if you were really projecting like she said you were, that would make sense. “What’s wrong?” You asked her in response to her grimace, and she pulled her hand from her ribs, the hand covered in blood. 

“I....” she looked down at her hand, washed a dark red in the silvery moonlight, and then put it back. “I made a  _ very _ stupid decision about twenty minutes ago. Haven’t stopped bleeding.” 

Anakin sat beside you, and Solus gasped for breath, calling upon the Force as she staunched the bleeding. “That was  _ really  _ stupid,” she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath and removing her hand; it was coated in blood, glistening in the moonlight. Anakin looked at you, concern in his eyes. Pickles mewed at you from the corner, confused, until he perched next to you, wearily eyeing Anakin. 

_ Is she going to be alright?  _ Anakin asked you, and you shrugged. 

“I can hear you, Anakin. You forget that,” Solus muttered, her body language turning back to normal. “And I will be. Gotta stop with the self-destructive tendencies.” 

_ Better than getting your arms and legs chopped off by your best friend, _ Anakin mused. 

You glared at him. “Really? Now?” 

He shrugged.  _ Never did have good timing. _

The three of you sat on the floor of your bedroom, gathering yourselves. Anakin eventually faded from the room, but you knew he would come back. Solus stared at you from across the room. “There’s so much you don’t know,” she muttered, smiling weakly at you. “ _ So much.  _ About Snoke, about Kylo, about all of this. The Jedi, the Sith, the Grays....” 

“I didn’t have much in the way of formal training. I just kind of.... Figured it out as I went along.” 

She nodded, a coy, pained laugh on the air. “Ren probably didn’t figure out how powerful you really were until it was too late, but I’m sure he knew you were sensitive.”

“He did. He figured it out, told me, and began training me, but not much evolved from it.” You shrugged, standing. “Do you need to go to the medbay for those cuts?” 

“No. Give me a second,” she muttered, and you felt her heal herself again, this time fully. 

“Aaah, fuck,” she muttered, groaning. “I really was never good at healing.” 

“What were you good at?” You asked her, offering her a hand to pull herself up by. 

The black-haired captain took your hand with her clean one and popped up, her gray shirt bloodstained and her face pale. “Thanks,” she muttered, and you nodded. 

You awaited her response to your question as you helped her to the table, making her some food and a cup of tea. She stared at the wood table, the iridescent light making her hair shine almost white somehow. Her violet eyes were cast in shadow by her hanging head and hair, and then she said, “I was good at killing.” Her proclamation was staggering, but not surprising. You saw the way her body moved while she was fighting. It was like she was born fighting, killing, all of it. 

“Where are you from, Solus?” You asked her after you set her food down. 

She tore into the sweetbread, chewing and swallowing before replying. “Lots of places. My sister and I never really had a home.” 

So she had a sister. You nodded, chewing on a piece of sweetbread yourself. 

She wolfed down her food, color returning to her face and some clarity to her eyes. “Thank you,” she muttered, sighing. “What time is it?” 

You looked at the clock. “Four in the morning.” 

She groaned. “I have a meeting with Leia in two hours and I haven’t slept.” 

You chuckled a little. “Kylo used to spend nights before huge events sleepless, as if the anxiety of something he had to do kept him awake. Towards the end, he was in an endless spiral of unrest and anger. It was toxic, and I couldn’t save him.” 

Solus smiled. “I knew someone like that. A long time ago. He’s dead now, though. Killed by the First Order. It’s why I joined the Resistance.” 

You nodded. “How long have you been here?” 

“Since I was fifteen. Always been infantry.” 

“Why are you answering all my questions?” 

Solus leaned on the table, looking you in the eye. “I wonder that myself. I look at you and I see a potential enemy; you’re close to my enemies, so forgive me for my assumption. Yet Anakin placed the duty of finding and rescuing your jackass of a boyfriend on  _ you. _ He brings you here, where I’m sure you didn’t want to be, and makes sure  _ I’m _ the one that saves you from Snoke. Either Anakin is an idiot, which is honestly not far out of the question, or he’s trying to fulfill some sort of will the Force has asked him to fulfill through us. Or he’s just being a jackass. There’s that too.” 

You smirked, and Solus cracked a smile. 

“You have this attitude of the big badass and yet, you’re just as human as the rest of us,” you smiled at her, and she nodded. 

“I didn’t spend sixteen years in the Resistance fighting my way to where I am to be treated like a joke because everyone thinks my relationship with the Skywalkers got me here.” She paused, and then sighed. “Report to my office at eighteen-hundred hours. Your training will continue there.” 

Solus stood up, and walked out your door, gently shutting it behind you. 

You sat there in the flourescent lighting of your kitchen, Pickles leaping up on the table across from you. “Yeah, I know,” you sighed at his soft meow, scratching the cat as he purred and pressed into your hand. “Things are about to get interesting, kitty.” 

\--------------------------------------------------------

_ You showed up, on time, to _ Solus’s office. Your hair was in a tight bun at the base of your skull, and you hefted your staff in your hands, ready and determined. 

She was on the floor with her back turned away from you. “There’s been a shift in the Force.” 

You paused, not entirely sure how to reply. Solus had a tendency to do this, to start cryptic messages. You’d discovered this over the past days. She suddenly rose up, spinning to face you. “It revolves around  _ you, _ ” she breathed, her eyes boring holes into yours as if your mind could betray you. 

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” 

“Not yet. But you will.” She nodded, walking away from her with her head bobbing. “You will.” 

Solus picked up a staff, the wood shining in the dim light. “Take a stance. We’ll run through what we covered yesterday to make sure you still remember it. From there, I’ll show you some more basic techniques. Then we’ll see.” 

She returned to everything, including how to hold the staff, along with basic types of strikes and parries. It was tedious; you felt like telling her that you knew this and just to move on, but you knew there was a reason for it. 

She taught you how to take shock, how to fall, how to give and receive blows. She taught you basic forms so you’d learn the dynamic of using the staff. You took to it much faster than you’d like, but in all honesty,  _ you wanted Kylo back at any cost. _

The recurring days were like that. Weeks passed and your movements had become crisp, sharp, clean, and Solus praised you. She brought in some of her elites to practice with you when she couldn’t, and one time, she was watching over as you were disarmed and held at the point of the staff. Without a second thought, you grabbed the staff and drove your feet into the chest of your partner, wrenching the staff from their grasp and shoving them to the floor. 

The soldier looked up at Solus with wide eyes, flat out shocked, and she slowly stood, applauding. “I didn’t teach you that,” she murmured, smirking. 

“Not you. When I was with a friend, I was momentarily trained by a man in the nearby town. He taught me it,” you panted out, getting off the soldier and helping him up. 

He brushed off his shirt, re-tied his long golden hair back into its bun, some curly strands escaping his sweat-drenched face. His brown eyes fixed on you, tired but aware. You fared no better, your bangs hanging in your eyes and fatigue clouding your movements. 

“That’s enough for today,” Solus nodded, smiling at you both. “Good work, you two. Have I introduced you yet?” 

You shook your head, your sweat-soaked hair smacking you in the face without intending it to. 

“That’s a shame, I thought I had. Doctor, this is Lieutenant Jacob Kazmarek. Jake, this is the doctor Leia requested some weeks ago.” Solus gestured to the two of you in respective intervals. 

Jake nodded at you, his brown eyes friendly and courteous though he didn’t extend a hand for you to shake. Solus smiled, pleased with the way the two of you worked together. “Hmm. I might have to build upon this chemistry.” She muttered to herself, taking notes in a pad by her observation spot. 

Jake’s eyes followed the captain, as if he were waiting for more commands. 

“Jake,” she called, and the soldier headed towards his leader. 

Solus and Jake quietly spoke in another language you didn’t recognize, the words hushed and like velvet. Once, Jake looked back at you, gave an affirmative nod, and returned to your side. 

“I’m going to have Lieutenant Kazmarek train you while I’m away. He’s one of my best, and I know him very well. You’re in capable hands.” Solus patted you on the shoulder, you leaning heavily on your staff. “Also, Leia has requested your presence whenever you are strong enough to speak with her. My guess is it has to do with the search for your boyfriend.” She nodded at Jake, and then sauntered out of the room, softly shutting the door behind her. 

“We must be getting close. She’s in an awfully good mood,” you grunted, mainly to yourself, picking your staff up off the ground as if it were planted. 

“That is not why the Captain is in a good mood, Doctor,” Jake muttered, falling into step beside you. “She asked of me to work closely with you. She believes we could be a good team.” 

You hummed in response, taking a deep breath. “This isn’t a research project, Lieutenant,” you murmured, your feet light on the floor. 

“I am aware. This is about Kylo, and it’s personal. I understand.” 

“Do you?” You muttered, truly wondering if he did. 

“My brother is a Knight of Ren.” 

You paused, actually stopping in your tracks. “ _ A Knight of Ren? _ ” You hissed out, turning to look the  _ much _ taller man in the eye. Jake’s impassive face, that of stone, prompted you to reach out with the Force to tear down his walls, to see if it were true -- but if he was related to a Knight of Ren, he was as strong in the Force as you, and far better trained. You kept your skepticism to yourself. “Not here,” you murmured, sighing. “My bunker. I’ll comm you when I return from my meeting with Leia. We can discuss there, over a cup of tea and my cat.” 

He snorted at the last few words of the sentence, cracking a small smile. It was becoming on the tall, tanned, scarred man, who fought like the devil himself and yet remained the kindest man you’d found on your own. You had scars from this man’s nails tearing you to shreds whilst fighting, scratches Solus had asked to heal but you refused.  _ It’s better to remember the losses so the victories taste sweeter, _ you’d told her, and she smiled that smile that would haunt Kylo; a half-smile of pure pride and admiration. 

Jake had headed down the hallway, his commnumber scrawled onto your arm in permanent marker as you headed for your bunker and your much-needed shower and change of clothes. 

You keyed in the code, patting Pickles on the head and making sure to feed him-- you didn’t know how long it would be before you would be back. As Pickles happily munched on his tuna dinner, you headed into the refresher for a much-needed hot shower to relax your muscles and to cleanse your skin of the sweat that had since dried. 

You stepped out twenty minutes later, scrubbing steam from the mirror so you could see, and wrapped your towel around your chest to catch any dripping water as you tore through your closet, looking for clothes. 

_ Seems like you’ve gotten yourself a date, _ Anakin smirked, and you screamed, throwing a bra in the direction the voice seemed to come from. 

The object flew through his image, and he raised an eyebrow, smirking.  _ Really? A bra? _

“It was effective against Kylo,” you sneered, marching over to pick it up and tossing it on your bed. “And if you  _ must _ know, my date is with your daughter. She asked to see me.” 

_ Yes, I’m aware. _

“Then stop your incessant teasing. I’ve managed to make you shut up before, I can do it again,” you growled. 

In truth, you didn’t know how you managed to get Anakin to quiet himself previously. You were sure you could attempt it again, but who knew what kind of result would come from that.  _ Right, _ Anakin mused, sighing.  _ Anyway, what’s the occasion? _

“No clue,” you replied, digging through your closet for something presentable. Each shirt you passed was a training shirt; you rarely wore anything else anymore. “Come on, I’ve gotta have  _ something, _ ” you hissed out, and in the depths of your closet, you were able to find a black silk tunic, embroidered with reds and grays, and a pair of leather pants. 

_ Leather. _

When the hell had you gotten these? 

You paused, holding them in your hands. The leather was soft, almost breathable, and you searched for another alternative. Finding none, you groaned, finally returning from the depths of your closet. 

_ And she returns, _ Anakin smirked. You glared daggers at him. 

“I see why Obi-Wan cut off your arms and legs,” you growled, and the former Jedi feigned hurt. 

_ That hurts, Doctor, _ he muttered, his whine cutting through the hair at an alarming rate. 

“Can anyone shut this fucker up?” You called out, tossing the clothes on the bed. 

Anakin paused, studying what you’d dragged out with you.  _ Leather pants? That’s a touch even I hadn’t gone to yet. _

“Quite frankly, Anakin, I don’t care. I haven’t got anything else,” you hissed, and you dove back into the ‘fresher, squirming into the clothes and finding they fit perfectly, you strode out, finding no resistance in the pants.  _ Strange.... _

Anakin stared at you, watching you move about the room. 

“Keep staring and I’ll kick your ass,” you snarked at him, but it was playful this time. You giggled after, and Anakin cracked a smile. 

_ You’re insufferable. _

“Me? At least my best friend didn’t try to kill me, only to be killed by my own mentor,” you shot back, and Anakin visibly flinched, but relaxed afterwards. 

_ Fair enough, _ he smiled back.  _ Leia is expecting you. I would hurry. She can be.... Impatient. _

You nodded, reaching out to Leia yourself.  _ General? _ You asked, and she replied with a tired frustration. 

_ Hello. Are you ready?  _

_ Yes. I apologize for the wait, I wished to not smell like Solus just spent eight hours beating me up with a stick.  _

She actually laughed, and then said,  _ That’s quite alright, Doctor. I am in the situation room. I trust you can find the way? _

You smiled -- she knew of your growing strength in the Force.  _ Of course. _

_ I will see you soon then.  _

You felt the link fade, and you sighed in relief -- speaking to Leia was like speaking to a mother, despite her own demons. She was calming, relaxing. You wondered what it was like to grow up with her, and why Kylo ever strayed from the Light. 

You left your bunker, weaving your way through the halls and towards Leia Organa. It was likely to be a gentle, simple meeting -- over the past weeks she’d become your mother, in a way, and you two searching for Kylo together really bonded the two of you. However, you couldn’t shake the sense of malice that hung over your head, as if this malevolent energy that seemed to surround you would rear its weary head in the coming hours. 

Something told you it wouldn’t, as if the feeling of being secure where you were would keep the foreboding sense of doom from actually becoming impending; however, you had since learned to trust the Force, and with it, your instincts. 

As you raised your hand to knock on the door of Leia Organa’s situation room, you  _ knew _ something horrible was impending. And when Leia opened the door, the deep circles and worried brown irises of her eyes told you she felt the same thing. 

“Soon?” You asked. 

She nodded, and Solus moved into position behind Leia where you could see her in the distance. Solus’s normally tanned face was ghostly, and her violet eyes were pale with fear. Jake was beside her, and something told you that your discussion over his brother would have to wait for a more.... Convenient time. 

“Soon,” Leia murmured in return, and you sighed. 

The Force was never wrong. 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your strength in the Force grows, and so does your drive to find Kylo. As you are trained simultaneously by Jake and Solus, the story behind Jake’s brother is revealed, and Kylo’s plans don’t go... well, exactly as planned.

Solus led you from the situation room where Leia was placing units on standby for movement. Jake fell into your brisk step, the massive giant smiling at you from his position at your left flank. The dark gray floors reflected the three of you as you moved about the base, the ungodly hour reflected in the emptiness of the halls. Little to no personnel were in the halls, noticing your sudden panic. Despite the looming battle, the halls were empty, quiet, almost deserted. 

Jake looked at Solus as the three of you rushed along, brown eyes carefully guarded, finally breaking the silence. “Captain, where are we going?” 

“Storage,” she muttered, her grip like iron on your wrist. Something told you  _ storage  _ wasn’t quite the right word. The two of you were led down a flight of stairs and into a room, where Solus went up to one of six durasteel doors and typed in a keycode. The room was dark, smelled of mold and mildew, and was generally just like a basement. 

Solus turned to the two of you, saying, “You two cannot speak of what you see in here.” 

You and Jake exchanged looks, and Jake’s hand found yours, gripping it tightly. A small smile graced your lips; despite his training, his confidence, and his size, he was still scared of his captain. You admired that about him. “We agree,” you murmured, and Solus narrowed her eyes, violet eyes flicking between the two of you. 

“Very well,” she finally said, and turned her back to you as she pushed the door open, silver and black cloak billowing gently with the movement. 

You two stepped in, looking around the room as she closed the door behind you. 

Lightsaber hilts of all different kinds and colors lay strewn on benches and hung from walls; vibroblades, probably modified, were scattered in among them. You’d had your own run-in with vibroblades, marked by scars across your arm, and did not wish to have another one. The room was lit by heat lamps scattered about the room, with all sorts of engineering equipment scattered around the room. Tools hung from hooks on the walls, and a stereo of sorts was set up in a corner. A screen printer was in an adjacent corner, and uniforms hung on hangers from a clothing rack. The entirety of the place was a mess. 

“You didn’t tell me you had a stash of these,” Jake hissed out, clearly agitated. 

“It wasn’t relevant at the time,” Solus snapped back, whipping him back into position as an inferior officer. He flinched in response, his hands clasping behind his back as he moved about the room. His black long-sleeved Elite uniform tunic and windbreaker were pushed up to his sleeves, exposing tanned, muscular forearms. Scars dotted his arms, possibly from needles. 

Your fingers ran over the lightsabers, the metal cold to the touch. It was chilly in the room, enough to grab for a jacket to pull closer. Jake draped his wordlessly over your shoulders, and you smiled, thanking the blonde as he pulled his long hair atop his head with a bun, a small, courteous smile gracing his tanned face. 

“Did you make these?” You asked quietly, and Solus nodded. 

“Call it a coping mechanism,” she muttered, her eyes scanning the racks for the perfect one. “Jake, would you like a single-edged or a double-edged blade?” 

“Single,” he replied immediately, and Solus snatched a weathered gray hilt off the rack and tossed it to him. 

“Try this one,” she muttered, and then looked at you, eyebrow raised. 

“Double,” you answered after some thought, and Solus smiled, searching until she came across an almost white hilt. 

She plucked it from the wall, turning the white leather-wrapped hilt over in her hands. “This is my favorite,” she smiled, engaging the gold saber. The light graced her face, turning her violet eyes almost black. Her long hair shined under the light, and then she handed it to you. “Here, I’ll show you how to hold it.” 

You knew how to use a staff, but this was a little different. Solus stood behind you, positioning your hands properly as she allowed you to move about with the staff. In the background, Jake was messing with his violet saber, spinning it around a bit and giggling. Solus stepped away from you, nodding. “Go on. Try it.” 

Your hands moved towards the more natural positions, and with a simple twirl, you had the staffsaber spinning over your head and beside you, the light flashing in and out of your peripherals. 

You finished by switching off the saber, smiling at the hilt in your hand. Solus clapped from behind you, and you turned to face her, pleased that after only a few months of training you’d been able to handle a saber without hurting yourself.

“This is it, Doctor. This is where you belong.” 

You smiled at her, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You didn’t want to belong in this....  _ Thing. _ You wanted to belong with Kylo. 

Jake walked you back to your room, his hand on your back the entire time and telling you stories of his brother from their childhood quietly, as if it were some secret not meant to be told. You were too lost in thought to really pay attention, and you tapped in the keycode to your bunker with a quiet goodbye to Jake. The ungodly hour and the events of the day before had worn you to the bone. Perhaps a day or two of rest would do you well.

Pickles welcomed you back by rubbing up against your legs, purring. You leaned down and scratched him on the top of the head, heading to your room and changing into pajamas just before crashing on your bed. 

You were snoring before your head hit the pillow, saber firmly clutched in your hand. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

_ As it turns out, Solus was,  _ in fact, gone for the next few weeks. You still went to training with Jake, who spent more time on hand-to-hand and melee combat than anything else. Kylo would have been proud.

That day, he’d had you in a headlock, his hands locked right beside your face and your chin instinctively pressed into your chest. “Now,” Jake murmured, his face only a foot from yours, “roll your finger under my nose and yank my right hand off my other hand.” 

You suppressed your panicking nerves and attempted to do so, but you failed to move Jake’s head back enough to yank his hand off. He let go of you as you tapped out, growling at yourself as you kneeled on the floor, catching your breath. 

“Doctor,” Jake muttered, kneeling beside you with his hand on your shoulder, “don’t worry. This is a hard technique to master. Would you like me to use one of the others to show you how it’s done?” 

You rubbed at your neck, steadying your breath pattern, and then nodded. 

Jake stood and barked in a language you didn’t know, an Elite man approaching him with his hair piled messily into a bun at the top of his skull. He was dark-haired, but dyed blond, hazel-eyed, and overall fragile-looking, but you knew better than to underestimate the Elites. 

He went slow, demonstrating the technique as you backed away, knowing that with that familiar twinkle in his eye of troublemaking that he was going to go a little quicker than Jake would be prepared for. 

With a nod at a questioning Jake, he went through the technique one more time, and a sly grin cut across your face as the boy snapped through the technique and kicked his legs out from underneath him, his foot atop his chest. 

You giggled a little, and Jake hauled himself up off the floor, trying not to smirk at his shock at the sudden reversal. 

“Fine,” he muttered. “Doctor, on your feet. Let’s go, you and Private Mathenia can putz around all you’d like.” 

You hauled yourself onto tired legs, the boy smirking at you with that same twinkle in his eye. He bounced on the balls of his bare feet, his skin-tight exercise pants bunching at his ankles. You raised taped fists, knowing he wouldn’t go easy on you. 

He took one flying punch at you, and you darted out of the way, driving your shoulder into the side of his thigh. He dropped to the floor and you kicked at his head, not touching, and then dropped in for a punch that would have broken his nose if you had allowed it to make contact. Instead, your hand stopped millimeters from his face, wide hazel eyes looking up at you with shock. 

You felt his determination change, shift, from being easy to being ready to take you down. You let him up, and you growled as he landed three hits before you could even blink. A sharp kick to his chest sent him staggering backwards, your bangs falling in your eyes. 

He fixed hazel eyes on you, watching carefully as you went from side to side. A growling scream left the two of your throats, flying at each other with a flying fist. 

You tumbled to the ground before you could land your punch though, and in the process, you tripped him up, the young adult leaping to his feet instinctively. You were slower to get up, having landed on your shoulder, and you popped it back into place, begging desperately for it to not be dislocated and just pissed off.

You raised your fists once more, and the boy took one look at you and shook his head, standing straight. “I will not.” 

His voice was much softer, gentler than you expected. His eyes locked on to yours, and then he shook his head again. “You heal up, rest up. We will see each other again.” 

He turned around, picked up his training duffel, and let his hair fall from its bun in half-dyed wavy locks. He tossed it from his face, nodded at you, and then left. A girl a little younger than him darted after him, her short hair blowing in the wind she was creating. 

You looked to Jake in confusion, who sighed and lowered the shoulder of your shirt. “Brandon has always been this way. He will push you until you get injured, and then he will wait until you are healthy to do it again.” Jake poked at your shoulder, and when you only winced in pain, he nodded and pulled it back up. “No major damage. It’ll bruise pretty bad, but you’ll be fine.” 

You nodded and stared off after the boy and his friend. “Are they together?” 

“Eva and Brandon? No. Absolutely not. Eva is about as gay as I am,” Jake smiled, helping you gather your things. “She tries to get him to talk to her, but he doesn’t. He rarely speaks.” 

“Why is that?” You asked him, and the 6’5 blonde shrugged. 

“Who knows?” He shook his head. “He’s one of a kind. A beautiful, kind, gentle person. But he’s got his demons, and Eva wishes she could help him in the same way her mother taught her to help herself.” 

You looked over to where the two had gone, and then you nodded, shouldering your bag. “I hope she gets him to talk to her.”

“Me too,” Jake said softly, almost too softly for you to hear. 

\-------------------------------------------

_ In the small cantina, you sipped  _ at a fruity drink, waiting in a corner with your head pulled low over your eyes. In the the officer’s cantina, you didn’t know who was your friend and who wasn’t. The hustle and bustle around you faded to white noise, feeling the creation of a new bond take place in the shadows of your consciousness. It was not anywhere near the same as yours and Kylo’s-- no, this was completely different. 

Jake Kazmarek was in your head. 

You couldn’t do much about it -- you could either shut him out or let him in. Neither option was pleasant to you, and you wished to talk to him in person anyway. Why not take this opportunity? 

The barkeep behind the counter had been watching you since you arrived, the girl’s violet-and-gold eyes flashing in the dark. You felt her gaze on you the whole evening, watching, waiting.

Finally Jake slid into the chair across from you, in a form-fitting tank top and loose trousers, both gray. His brown eyes settled on you, and he brushed long, wavy blonde locks from his face. “Hiding from someone?” 

“Only the entire Republic,” you muttered dryly, sipping at your drink. “They’re following me, I know it.” 

Jake snorted, the dark-haired girl delivering his drink to him and he nodded to her before turning to you. “I’m not sure what the Republic would want with  _ one _ Gray Force-user, but your ties do make you suspicious.”

You glared at him, and the blonde winked at you as he reached for his glass, muscles in his arm flexing. His arm was thicker than your thigh, rippling with muscle and scars. You wondered how long he’d been with Solus, how long his brother had been a Knight, how long he’d be able to deal with your drive to get Kylo home. 

“I’ve been with Solus since I was seventeen. She’s two, maybe three years older than me. My brother became a Knight shortly before I became an Elite,” Jake murmured, and you looked at him, confused. “How did I know?” He asked you, and then laughed. “The bond is a little stronger than either of us intended, I think.” 

“Well, what are we going to do about it?” You asked him, pulling your hood a little past your face as some Republic officers walked by. 

“First of all,” Jake murmured, “lose the hood. You don’t need it. The Republic isn’t after you; if they were, we’d know. Solus has eyes and ears everywhere.” 

You slowly dropped the hood, your hair in an intricate plait with ribbons atop your head. Jake smiled, saying, “I used to do those types of braids for my little sister.” 

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” you remarked, sipping at your drink. 

“Had is the key word. Britain killed her.” 

You froze, horror surrounding you. “Stars.... I’m sorry, Jake,” you murmured, reaching across the table and gripping his hand in the dim light of the cantina. He shook off your hand, hair falling into his eyes. 

“Don’t be. It was twelve years ago,” he muttered, and you knew better than to think he wasn’t still mourning.

“So why do you want your brother back? If he betrayed you?” You asked him, and Jake smiled, looking away. 

“It wasn’t him who betrayed me,” Jake spoke stiffly. “I was born into a Sith family, trained as a Sith until I was fifteen. I studied under Luke secretly, learning the Jedi way simultaneously. That’s how I met Solus; she and I were trained together in secret. I moved from seclusion after your boyfriend’s.... Episode, to Solus’s command. We’ve been taking in Force-abled people ever since, training them, and calling ourselves the Elite.” 

“So why didn't you go with your brother?” you asked him after a long pause, swirling the final sip in the bottom of your glass before you threw it back, grimacing as the alcohol burned your throat. 

Jake paused, staring at the glass in his hands. The situation reminded you of the time you were on Starkiller, shortly after your arrival; you’d made Kylo tea, and he spent five minutes burning his palms on the hot ceramic. The same look was on Jake’s face; you felt his indecision, his fear.  _ What do I tell her?  _

“The truth,” you murmured, and he nodded. 

“I....” He paused, choosing his words carefully. You felt his indecision, his torment, over this thing that happened in his past. You felt for him, you really did. “I watched my mother fall victim to my father’s power-hungry state of mind. I was five, and I watched her bleed out in my arms. I didn't know enough to save her, I couldn't control it. That's when I knew I had to be Gray, to save people. Not t0 kill, not to keep a balance. Just to save.” He nodded once, brushing back his hair behind his ear, revealing a triple-pierced ear. 

You listened to his story in shock and awe. “My family and I were never close,” you began. “I don't have any siblings and I haven't seen the sunny terrain of my home world since I was seventeen and I left to go to university. I was gentle then. Kind. Caring. I wanted to help people with science, to help satisfy the need for information. I graduated. Took a small job at a local hospital. And then the First Order came knocking.” You laughed, twisting the glass in your hands. “I hadn't heard of them. I hadn't heard of the Force, of how dangerous my life was about to become. How naïve....” 

You shook your head, and smiled at the table in some irony. “I don't know who to trust here. Samson says that Solus isn't exactly trustworthy. My gut tells me I have no other choice. I don't know where she’s from, who she is, why she’s here.” 

Jake’s hand gripped your wrist, and then he said, “Solus is about as close to a Skywalker as you could get without actually being one. You? You're a Skywalker. Bonded with one, practically married to him except the whole legal fabrications. Solus is like your adopted sister-in-law. Your boyfriend and her apparently go way back, a brotherhood that was somehow shattered. I don't know much about it. She doesn't talk about it. Apparently she left a sister behind. Apparently she and Kylo were close, close enough to be siblings. Other than that?” Jake shook his head, removing his hand and looking out the window. “I don't know.” 

You nodded, mind turning as you considered possible options. “Revenge?” You offered, uncertain.

“It's possible.” Jake shrugged, leaning back in the leather-covered tavern chair. “We are not Jedi here. Solus and I? General Organa? We are not Jedi. We operate outside the parameters of the Jedi code.”

You stared out the window, the rain pelting gently down on the fertile soil of D’Qar. You saw Poe barking his squadrons into position for drills, Jessika tailing to keep shit from going wrong. Finn was nowhere in sight, despite his trainees being present. You dismissed the thought. Solus was in training gear, the familiar racerback tank top and skin-tight capris she’d made you wear gracing her fit body, blaster at her hip, running an Indian run with the Elites, marked by an eagle on each shoulder. Your mind moved from them directly, wondering if you actually belonged with them.  

Jake studied you, brown eyes memorizing how your body looked. Finally, he spoke, having heard your thoughts. 

“What are you, indeed,” he murmured. “Are you a Sith? Jedi? Gray? Something else?” he shook his head, smiling at the barkeep and standing. “I don't know who you are, Doctor. I cannot help you on that journey. If you need me, call out for me. I shall answer.” Jake strode off, all 6’5 of lanky, muscular, gay weirdness as he flirted with a guy at the bar, leaning up against the counter and stretching his body out.

You smiled, nodding to yourself. What was that to mean? You didn’t know. You couldn’t begin to know. You pulled up your hood as you slank out of the cantina into the gray, misty, dreary outdoors, the long black fabric flapping on the breeze much the same way that Hux’s greatcoat had, that scrawny bastard.

You looked at the saber on your belt, the dull metal hidden by the folds of your cloak and tunic. The cold air nipped at your exposed skin as people bustled past you, but when you looked up, all your friends had been looking at you. Solus’s hair was tied up, dripping wet, as was her clothes. Poe was in his X-Wing, getting ready to run maneuvers and fly routes. Jake stared at you out of the window of the cantina, and Jessika stood beside Poe’s X-Wing, pausing from her work to look at you. 

A sense of dread filled you, and the sly smile fell from your lips as you turned and strode in the opposite direction of the base. 

An overwhelming urge of panic hit you like a ten ton cruiser, making your heart race, hands shake, and you suddenly collapsed a mile off-base, pressing your face into your hands to suppress the tears.  

Your shoulders shook, your eyes watered, and you did your best to suppress the hiccuping sobs that left your body. Your knees pulled to your chest, and the damp rain soaked through your clothes, rendering you cold and tired. 

A stray dog approached you. You must have been calling out with the Force; you hadn’t quite gotten the hang of controlling that yet. He sniffed at your hood, shoving it back with his nose and then sneezed on you, drawing your attention to him. 

You looked up in alarm at him, the warm, brown-eyed, drenched dog looking at you with hope and love that seemed so honest and pure. The canine pranced around, whining and licking at your face. 

You looked at him, confused, as he pranced down the alley and barked, clearly wanting you to follow. The brown and black dog waited for you at the base of the alley, and you rose, following him through the city. 

You ended up in front of a temple, of sorts. The dog ran up the steps, and from there, ran inside. 

The columns were old and dilapidated like the rest of the building, old Aurebesh scribbled in faded letters on signs and tattered tapestries. Water ran down your back, sending shivers down your spine. The area was misted, the trees dead; you didn’t like this area. It was laced with negative energies, something as old as the Force itself. 

The dog whined at you, begging you to follow, and then waited in the entrance for you. 

You took a deep breath, pulled your cloak closer, and climbed the steps into the place that felt like your doom. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_ You were drowning. _

It clawed at you like a desperate, petulant child, squeezing the air from your burning lungs and clawing black spots into your vision. Your lungs screamed, and then it all stopped. 

You were floating. 

In the dim light, you finally opened your eyes. You were on your knees, hair floating around you and your clothes baggy around you. Someone was kneeling in front of you, long, pale fingers broken and bruised resting on clothed knees. The bruises traveled up slim wrists and disappeared under long black sleeves, and you followed up the line of sight to find a beaten and battered Kylo resting before you. 

You scrambled back, unsure if this was another trick played by Snoke or if it was actually Kylo. 

He crept forward, pushing and pushing at your bond.  _ Let me in, love, _ he murmured, and you finally did. 

His emotions hit you like a truck, nothing but raw unbridled love and affection for you. His eyes were warm, happy, loving.  _ I love you, _ he murmured, and there was weight to his words, meaning behind them. His broken fingers reached out, cupping your cheek and jaw.  _ You’ve grown. So much. I see the fight in your eyes. It gives me the strength to do what I have to do.  _

_ Kylo, don’t do anything rash. I’m coming for you, you know, _ you shot back, and a smile graced his face. 

_ I know you are. But I have things I have to do before you find me.... People I have to take care of. But I will survive, I promise.  _

You shook your head, hand yanking his face closer to yours and slamming your lips against his, refusing to let him go. 

He gently pried your hand from his neck and smiled, his forehead pressed against yours.  _ You have no idea how much I love you.  _

_ Lies. _ You shot back, but a grin cut across your face.  _ Don’t die. You know Leia is gonna ground the fuck out of you, right? _

He laughed, and kissed your forehead.  _ That’s if the Senate doesn’t immediately call for my execution. I’ll be back, love. I promise.  _

With a lingering kiss, he faded from you, and you gasped and gripped at everything you could, ending up in a ball on the floor, your screams silenced by your agony. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

_ Kylo came to, a smile plastered _ on his face and a devilish attitude in his mind as he undid his restraints with the Force, healing his broken and shattered bones from the fifth time they’d been broken, finally able to go through with his plan. 

He gingerly stood, doing his best to hold on to something as his body struggled to keep up with his demands. Water rested on the far table, from Hux’s own demands. Cigarette butts were splayed on an ashtray, and Kylo rubbed the burns on his arms where Hux had put them out on him. Shaking his head, he gulped down as much water as he could muster, feeling his headache subsiding. 

He pulled on a clean tunic, probably left there by Hux by the amount of ginger cat hair that was strewn across the shoulders and back. His mind raced, trying to remember where his saber was; Kylo could only think of it to be in his quarters, where he had to go anyway. 

With a wave of his hand, he made it appear that he was still in the room, suffering, crying, unable to free himself, and then cloaked himself, stalking out into the dark hallways. 

The Citadel was always a dark, dismal place. It was always raining here, as well; there was a part of him that loved it, the rain, the mud, the refreshing smell. But there was another part of him that knew the rain would be as toxic in the long run as his tenure as a Sith. 

_ Show me the power of the Dark. _

What kind of a fool had he been? 

As Kylo stalked the shadows, keeping his steps silent and dark eyes alert for Hux, Britain, or worse, Snoke, he considered how horrible he’d been. A fall from grace, yes. But killing his own father? Betraying his family? Betraying  _ you _ ? Oh, the mistakes he’s made. 

Kylo finally approached his quarters; they were cramped, but they were still comfortable. Private, even. He found a bag, shoved clothes, nonperishable food, and varying weapons into it, his saber clipped to his belt. His dark hair fell into his eyes, hurriedly pushed back by a shaking hand. Was he really doing this? Again? 

The familiar shake was there, when Kylo was Ben and was staring down a young girl--  _ Rey. _ She was always the one who cared, other than Minerva. 

_ Minerva. _ Kylo’s mind flicked back to the black-haired, violet-eyed Sith-turned-Jedi padawan. His best friend at the time, Minerva had saved his ass from Luke on so many occasions, even before they were close. Kylo was the second person to encounter the sister duo of Minerva and Rey, Minerva holding very little resemblance to the young Jedi. 

His hand closed around his saber as he remembered what it felt like as he’d taken one of  _ her _ sabers, the gray-bladed twin sabers, and slaughtered everyone that stood in his way, even her. 

The twirl of the blade as she stood, defending Rey. The determined glint in her eyes, fully prepared to kill -- and die -- for her sister. 

Rey’s brown eyes staring up at him and glaring and shouting at him for hurting her sister, the body of fifteen-year-old Minerva motionless on the floor behind him. 

His hands shook, his resolve faltered. He felt Snoke urging him, pushing him to deal the final blow, and then deal with Skywalker and that Kazmarek boy, but he bolted the second Luke came down the hall, his footsteps heavy with fear. Minerva’s saber had dropped from his hand, and he had flown out the window faster than a blaster’s shot. 

Kylo shook the memory from his mind, gritting his teeth. Minerva was dead, and he had killed her. That was the difference between him and Vader; he hadn’t actually killed his best friend, his brother. No, Obi-Wan had vanished, giving into the Force’s will the second before the red blade had struck. 

Kylo shouldered the bag, nodding. He really was going to do this again. 

He burst out into the hallway, making a break for the Citadel’s gates. As far as he knew, he was all clear, and that seemed to be the case as he made his way across the courtyard. 

A pink-and-violet-haired girl, most of her hair tucked up in a hat, hoisted the gates open, beckoning him forward. He paused, unsure if it was safe to trust her, and then bolted through, her shutting the gates behind him and darting after him, her black and dark gray camouflage-patterned clothes masking her in the night. 

She was right at his heels, gray dual-edged saber engaged as she herded him up a ramp of a ship, shoving him in and shouting in another language at the other crew members. She relaxed as they broke atmosphere and hit hyperspace, panting against the pillar of the ship she’d shoved him in to. 

“Who are you?” he growled, and she smiled, laughing. 

“I am Dylan Kenmore, and my friend Lilliana and I are members of the Gray Jedi order, but we prefer to not be known as such. You need to know that for future reference.” 

A redhead wheeled out into the bay area, looking stern at her companion. “Basically, we’re friends with your girlfriend,” she amended, glaring at Dylan. 

The girl pulled off her hat, multi-colored hair falling around her face. “Basically.” 

“Why are you here?” Kylo asked, and the girls shrugged. 

“The Force told us to help you,” Lilliana said, and then wheeled back towards the cockpit. 

Dylan helped Kylo to his feet, nodding. “Now, who are you, Kylo Ren?” 

He paused, staring at her with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?” 

“ _ Do you know who you are,  _ Kylo Ren. Are you still Kylo? Are you Ben? Are you something else?” She shook her head, clapping him on the shoulder. “You need to figure that out before you go face your girlfriend. She’s quite the fighter, you know. Been looking for you for what, two years now? Something like that?” 

Kylo shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Agh, who cares? Time is relative. It passes, never to return, but you can slap it on its ass as it passes.” Dylan nodded towards the port side of the ship, opposite them. “There is a ‘fresher and bed back there. Some clothes, too, probably. Rest up, and then we’ll figure out where we’ll go from there.” 

“ _ We? _ ” Kylo snapped, and she smirked, a smile so like his father’s. 

“Of course,” she grinned. “Think I’m gonna go and let you have all the fun? I can’t stay here and babysit Lilliana all day. I’d go crazy.” 

“You are crazy!” Lilliana shouted from the cockpit, and the girl shrugged. 

“Whatever. Yolo. See you when you wake up, Sith Lord,” she grinned, and then tapped his forehead, the former Sith collapsing into her arms, snoring. 

“You didn’t have to knock him out, you know,” Lillian snarled a few minutes later after Dylan had carried-slash-dragged the man into the bed she’d pointed out. 

The girl donned her leather jacket, popping her collar a bit more than usual. “Eh, I don’t get to use that one that often outside of the context of your vertebral dislocations or panic attacks.” 

Lilliana shot a filthy blue-eyed glare at Dylan, the gray-eyed young adult flashing a toothy smirk. “I’m going to strangle you.” 

“No you won’t,” Dylan grinned, and then she reclined her chair and passed out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, okay, chapter seven everyone!! yeah, so I wasn't planning on posting this until I finished writing the chapter I'm working on, but yolo. These chapters keep getting longer, whoops. Love y'all. Sid out.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As your training progresses, you become more and more aware of the Force and what you're capable of. This causes Kylo to reach out, searching for you as his plan thickens. Solus is called before the Council to discuss her future, and Finn decides it's time to change up the game a little.

_ You waited in the shadows for  _ the next move. 

It wasn’t unlike you now to wait, lurking in the shadows like a ghost, for your friends. You had started wearing more blues and greens and browns again, returning to your old wardrobe from the time before Starkiller, but you still clung to the black habit when you were uncomfortable. 

This time, though, you weren’t waiting for your friends, and you weren’t wearing colorful clothing. 

You slunk through the shadows of the forest surrounding the base on D’Qar, sharpening your senses with the Force. Your footsteps were on their way to being completely silent, and you moved like a ghost, borrowed saber in your hand. The worn metal glinted in the moonlight, casting an unforgiving steel sheen around the immediate area, but not enough to give away your position. 

_ Where was he? _

_ Look with the Force. _

You took Anakin’s advice, reaching out with tendrils like a probing finger, searching, feeling, perceiving.  _ You aren’t supposed to help me. _

_ You should have met Qui-Gon. He believed the Jedi Code was more of a guideline than an actual code to live by. _

_ Pleasant, _ you muttered, and then you found him, a sly smile similar to that of a fox’s cutting across your face, an almost sadistic feeling growing within you. Oh, how you  _ loved _ these games. 

_ There you are. _

You slunk in the shadows, clambering up into a tree and waiting. He would come to you, just like always. 

He came right under you, searching.  _ Where are you, you little shit? _ He asked, engaging his borrowed saber.  _ Get over here. You know you want to fight me. _

You engaged your saber, the staff glowing gold in the night as you leapt down, his blue saber clashing with yours almost immediately. You fell back, settling into a deep stance, saber in a blocking position. 

Jake looked down at you as you rose to a fighting stance, saber locked in your hands. 

_ This is not going to end well for you, _ Anakin muttered. 

_ Shut the fuck up, Anakin. _

You were  _ not _ going to lose, even if it meant seriously injuring Jake. 

Jake’s blue saber cast an eerie, cold light about the land, whereas yours was like the sun had just struck with pre-dawn light. A moment the two of you sat there, and Jake made the next move, a strong downward strike for you to dance around. 

You stepped to the side, dragging the heat of the blade across the back of his neck close enough to potentially burn him, but not to kill him. He snarled, grabbing the back of his neck, and swirling at you with a new technique; you blocked, punching him in the throat. 

He hissed, grabbing at his throat, and reacting as if he were a new person to fight with. He drew his second saber out -- this one purple -- and charged you, leaving you stunned at the force of his attacks. You were able to pull yourself together enough to get a few low blows in, but his left-handed cut grazed your arm, leaving you gasping in pain and growling out curses. 

“Alright, you two,” Solus sighed, stepping between the two of you. “That’s enough. Jake, go get that burn on the back of your neck checked out.” To you, she took your arm gingerly, looking at the cauterized wound. “He got you pretty good, little one.” 

You hissed in pain as she turned your arm, stretching the wound and breaking the seal. With a soft whisper of words and the closing of her eyes, Solus called on the Force to stitch together the missing skin and heal it--though not perfectly. 

She released your arm, purple eyes almost glowing in the moonlight. “You’ll have a scar, but it shouldn’t restrict your movement. If it does, let me know; the healers can probably fix that.” She turned on her toes, striding after Jake towards the compound.

You fell into step alongside her, the months you’d spent with Solus showing. “How soon before we close in on the First Order?” 

“Don’t worry, Doctor. You will be able to capture -- excuse me,  _ retrieve  _ \-- your friends soon enough.” Solus walked with her hands clasped behind her back, her posture reminding you of Hux’s. Her black clothes mimicked those of the First Order’s, and you got a pang of.... What was it? Loneliness? As if the friends you’d left behind in the First Order were the only ones who understood?

“Where did you get these sabers anyway?” You asked her, breaking the tree line. 

“I found schematics to build them here shortly after Luke left.” 

“And your Force abilities?” 

She paused, her eyes focused on the landing strip ahead of the two of you. “A story that would take far too much time to explain.” 

“Where did you learn all of this? The fighting, the killing? Where did you learn it?” You continued to press, and as more questions began to fill your mouth, Solus spun in front of you, her long greatcoat twirling behind her and making her seem three times bigger than what she was. 

“Speak not of the past,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “I do not. Your past motivates you, Doctor; you seek justice for your fallen lover, but I, I seek  _ revenge _ . Revenge makes people do as strange things as love. Do not test me, and do not ask where I learned these things from. The point, Doctor, is that I know them, and it is my duty to pass them on to Force-able people who can then pass it on. What Kazmarek and I are, who we are training you to be, we are a dying breed. Stop questioning, start  _ learning. _ ” 

You shoved her back, getting space between the two of you. “Yeah? And what is that? A Sith? A Jedi? Something else? What is it, Solus? What are you hiding? Who are you looking for?  _ Whose side are you on?” _

Solus paused, and then she sighed. “No. Not Sith, not Jedi.” Solus paused, searching for the words to speak. Over the past few months, you’d grown to realize Basic was probably her fifth or sixth language. “Gray. We are something comparable to Gray.”

As she turned and strode away, leaving you a shocked mess where you stood. 

_ Something comparable to Gray. _

Hadn’t you said similar words to Kylo, so long ago? 

_ What’s wrong? _

Jake’s voice was crystal clear in your head. It washed over you like a wave, calming, relaxing, just peaceful. 

_ Nothing, _ you lied.  _ Just a little tired, that’s all. You nailed me pretty good with that strike.  _

_ You should see the burns on the back of my neck. Thanks a lot. _

You smirked, and found the energy to carry yourself towards the base, suddenly fatigued.  _ I’m going to head to bed. We need to talk about your brother soon.  _

Jake paused, and you felt his mood change, as if images and memories of his brother came to mind.  _ Tomorrow, then. I don’t have any plans, and I don’t think you do either. _

_ I was going to head out with Poe and Jessika. Go to the market, get food and stuff.  _

_ Tomorrow night, then. Unless you three are getting shitfaced again. I don’t want to have to deal with that again; you drunk and unable to control the bond is something I do not wish to experience again. _

You crinkled your nose at him, stepping into the warm air of the base.  _ You need a life. _

_ I need a boyfriend, _ Jake hissed, and you chuckled, saber’s hilt still firmly gripped in your hand. It was like a security blanket now, how familiar you’d become with the deadly weapon. If the old you were to see the new you, she’d be as disgusted as the day Hux destroyed that system. 

_ Yeah, you really do. _

You skirted around guards in front of Leia’s quarters, the general sensing your approach and had stepped out of her room in her nightgown. She fell into step beside you, turning you down an abandoned corridor and cornering you. Panicked, you turned to her, eyes wide, gripping the saber like it was your last hope. 

“You and Solus have been training in more than just staffs, Doctor,” she muttered, and you sighed. 

“I apologize for not informing you of my progress in the Force, General. I assumed Solus had told you.” 

“She did not,” Leia hissed out, and you flinched away from her. 

“I apologize,” you squeaked out, unable to meet her gaze. 

Leia’s brown eyes burned holes into you, and you felt so small beneath it. Her breath evened, her body relaxed, and she took a deep breath. “Forgive me. How goes the search for my son?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. My reach extends far further than it used to. Perhaps our plan will help unlock where he may be.” 

Leia hummed in response, rubbing her temples. “Yes, I’ve learned. Your meditations grow much stronger than they were.” 

You shrugged. “I am not going to apologize for progress.” 

“Nor would I expect you to. The captain’s decision to train you was one she made entirely on her own, therefore any wrongdoing would fall on her. What of Lieutenant Kazmarek? What talent does he bring to your training?” Leia asked you, her hands clasped behind your back. You gestured to the door, so you could walk back towards your bunker, and she nodded, stepping out first. 

You sighed, rolling your now-stiff shoulder and cracked your neck. “Solus believes we would make a good training duo. It’s due to Kazmarek’s unyielding patience I have progressed so far.” 

“You sing his praises.” 

“I like to speak good of my friends.” 

Leia laughed gently, about to reply, when a wild-eyed girl appeared from around the corner, leather jacket flapping in the wind she was making as she darted towards you two. 

She almost crashed into Leia, but you were able to scoop the taller girl up and spin her around, allowing her to catch her breath. 

“Fyter,” Leia breathed, looking confused. “What the hell?” 

“Forgive me, General. It’s Jake. There’s been some sort of fight, he’s burned--” 

The dark-haired girl paused, eyeing you. “You. You’re the one.” 

“Excuse me?” You asked, stepping back from her intense gaze. 

“You’re the one,” she breathed. 

Her purple and gold eyes fixed on you, then on Leia. “I did not know you had her on base. How long have you been hiding her from me? Hmm?” 

“Back off, Liberty,” Jake croaked, and you spun to face him. His brown eyes bored holes into Liberty’s, his hand at your back. 

The girl stiffened. “So this is it. This is how it all ends.” 

“Fyter, you’re not making sense,” Leia sighed, and Liberty shook her head, straight, dark hair falling around her shoulders as she walked away, muttering under her breath. 

“What the hell?” You asked Jake and Leia, and Jake shrugged, the back of his neck bandaged and his hair still up in a tight bun. 

“Liberty is about sixteen, and she has many voices in her head. She’s sensitive to more than just the Force, more than what we could even begin to understand.” Jake shrugged again, his large hand at the small of your back. “I was charged with her safety, but she’s more than capable of handling herself.” He ushered you and Leia along the corridor, trying to remember what you and Leia had been discussing. Fatigue clouded your mind, and you began to lean on Jake, who looked at you out of the corner of his eye. 

You began to doze off, physically shaking yourself to stay awake. Jake paused, his large hand gripping your arm. “Are you alright?” He asked you, brown eyes worried. 

Your eyes looked up into his, though it wasn’t his dark-eyed gaze you saw. Your hand reached up to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing against the blonde stubble as if Jake wasn’t there at all, an awestruck look on your face. The joy, the love, the relief all blossomed up inside of you, bleeding onto your face. 

“Kylo,” you breathed, collapsing into Jake’s arms. 

Jake wrapped his arms around you, his panic driving his reaction to immediately bypass the walls around your mind and work his way through your memories, trying to figure out what was wrong. 

“Well? What’s wrong?” 

Jake slowly pulled himself from your mind, his brown eyes wide as he gently set your head on the duracrete flooring, your hair loose from its loose bun and tumbling about your face in waves. He studied the angle of your jaw and the height of your cheekbones, trying to remember what fascinated him about your face so much. 

“Call a doctor,” he breathed, looking up at Leia with dark eyes. 

\----------------------------------

_ “Captain Solus,” the Council called out. _ “We genuinely believe that your operations outside of the Resistance and Republic cannot be tolerated.” 

Solus stood her ground, her greatcoat draped across her shoulders and her hair up in a loose, messy bun. “The Gray Jedi have no problem with the Resistance, Council. I don’t see what the problem is.” 

The chairman, an old, decrepit old man who still clung to the ways of the old Jedi Order, even though the Codes have since been rewritten, narrowed pale blue eyes at the captain. “Your experience with the Force--” 

“Regardless of my former allegiances, I have made myself useful under General Organa for the last fifteen years. My ties to Skywalker and the Force should be more than enough to speak for my usefulness to the Resistance,” Solus spat out, not hiding her distaste at the situation. 

“You are training Kylo Ren’s  _ lover _ in the Force. There is nothing we can agree on more on this council: the girl  _ must be stopped!  _ Not only that, Captain, but there is much innocent bloodshed on your hands from your escapades outside this order!”

Solus scoffed, ignoring his comment on the bloodshed.  That was a battle for another day, most definitely. “If you had to pick between me and Ren, who would you choose to train her?” 

“No one!” The chairman howled. “There are enough Force-sensitives that have been ruining our mission since day one. We don’t need another one.” 

Solus gave him a disgusted look. “You must be speaking in the old tongue, Chairman, because I cannot understand the gibberish that just came out of that shithole you call your mouth.” There were collective murmurs around the room, and Solus scoffed. “You speak as if the Force is a dying breed. No. We are growing. The scavenger girl, Rey; the ex-Stormtrooper, Finn; Lieutenant Kazmarek; his charge, Liberty Paige Fyter; the doctor, Christina-- there is no dying breed of Siths and Jedi anymore. There has been an Awakening. My  _ old religion _ is no longer so old, Chairman.” 

The dark room remained silent for a moment, the Chairman collecting his thoughts on how to proceed without ordering the execution of the captain. Solus stood her full six-foot-one height, her feet wide, hands clasped behind her back in parade rest. 

“You are out of line, Captain,” the Chairman finally spoke. 

“As are you,” Solus muttered. “You speak on the behalf of something you do not understand.” 

He sighed, crossing his hands over his chest. “Your former Sith relations have been looked over until dates of late, Captain.” 

Solus stiffened, and her jaw set. “I do not speak of the past in such manners. That was a dark time in my past. I do not plan on reverting back to who I was under Leader Snoke.” 

“You claim all this knowledge on Snoke, yet you’ve so little to deliver. Your story has no standing, Captain.” 

Solus paused, choosing her words carefully. “The Resistance cannot go up against Snoke and expect to win, Chairman. I keep my silence for good reason--none of us can expect to go up against him and win.” 

The chairman stood and roared in return, shouting, “ _ And you expect your rag-tag team of wannabe Jedi can do it on their own? _ ” 

“First of all, Chairman, we are not Jedi. We are Gray Jedi. We are entirely different and not affiliated with either side. Second of all, we will not go up against Snoke. Not until Kylo Ren has been turned or is dead,” Solus snapped, malice dripping from her words in a downpour of anger. 

The room went silent again, and a councilwoman spoke to Solus this time. “Do you genuinely believe there is still good in Kylo Ren?” 

Solus swallowed. “My personal vendettas against him aside, I only know what the doctor has shared with me. With her intimate knowledge of the man, she is thoroughly, unshakably convinced that Kylo Ren is still Ben Solo. I, along with many if not all in this room, would love to see him dead and cut up into pieces and tortured, a day for every soul he and his disgusting team of fascists took too early.” She sighed through her nose, continuing. “However, because I have an immense amount of trust in the young doctor, I will follow her accordingly. General Organa has expressed her undying support in the matter of her son, and though I do not agree, she is my general and I will follow her order.” 

“She is also your mother, is she not?” 

“In a matter of speaking, sir, but she is not blood related to me as far as I know.” 

The chairman leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “As far as you  _ know _ ?” 

Solus swallowed, praying she didn’t stumble or falter in her words. “I was taken from my parents at a very young age, sir. I was trained as a weapon under Snoke, and when I discovered I had a younger sister....” The black-haired woman shook her head. “My sister dragged me back to the Light before she was old enough to walk.” 

“What happened to your family, then, Solus?” 

Solus took a long while to respond. “Snoke slaughtered my mother and father, as far as I know, and I was only able to save my sister. At the age of eleven I entered myself under Luke Skywalker, and at fifteen, I came here. I cannot understand what this has to do with anything, though.” 

“Why have you not spoken of this before, Captain?” The chairman asked. 

Solus paused, searching through her mind. “The doctor,” she breathed, uncertain.

“I’m sorry?” 

“The doctor,” Solus repeated, her voice stronger and as true as the day she swore her allegaince to Organa. “She’s changed me, for the better. She affects everyone she meets. You should speak with her, you should see the passion and the fire this woman has. This isn’t the passion of a woman scorned, sir; this is the passion of a woman who has lost everything and will do her damnedest to get it all back.” 

“I see.” The chairman leaned back in his seat, studying Solus. “Has the Council changed their decision?” 

_ Decision? _ Solus thought, unable to hide her confusion at the situation. 

No hands were raised in accordance. The chairman nodded, and then leaned forward. “Captain Solus, the Council hereby removes you from your position in the Resistance and Republic. You no longer will report to General Organa, you no longer act on our behalf, and no longer can lay claim to any strategy implemented from here on out.” 

“On what grounds?!” Solus snapped. 

“We believe you are a danger to the organization and therefore must be removed, like a thorn in our side.”

Solus jutted out her jaw, looking down at the council though they were elevated above her. “I see.” She bit her lip, and then turned to stride out of the room, but paused. “If I were you,” she hissed out, violet eyes laced with venom, “I would not stand in the doctor’s way. She will cut you down where you stand and have no remorse until she has achieved her goal.” 

With that, she strode out of the room, greatcoat gliding on the breeze behind her. 

\----------------------------------

_ You were floating again. _

You remembered the last time you were here. Snoke had called out to you. You remembered it like it was yesterday; you’d moved away from meditation after that. Your life was in danger too, and you forgot that consistently. You forgot it because Kylo’s life was more important than your own, in a lot of ways. You were no one, made someone by Kylo; Kylo had always  _ been  _ someone, an Organa, a Skywalker, a Solo, even an Amidala. If only he had followed his mother instead of his grandfather. 

You remembered the first time you’d met with Leia, briefly, a very, very long time ago. Long before Jessika had said she requested your presence, back when Samson had first met you. 

_ That _ was where it all had began. Crying in front of Leia Organa, swearing justice and to bring Ren home, no matter the cost.

_ What the hell were you thinking? _

Were you really strong enough to take on Snoke to get Kylo back? 

_ No.  _

The answer was no. 

You weren’t strong enough. As the battle approached, you knew the fact that loomed over your head. You hoped you wouldn’t have to do it alone, that whatever Solus and Jake were, they could help you. You wish you had Kylo’s background in the Force to understand what had happened to you, who you found yourself around. 

_ You don’t need me to explain, to understand. _

The voice, like a ghost from your memory, flooded your mind, relaxing your body and making your stomach flip, hope bubbling up inside of you.  _ Kylo?  _ You begged, you hoped, you  _ prayed. _

The affirmation came not from your mind, but from the bond. The bond that had been silent until now, save for that one moment, the bittersweet kiss that had seemed like a dream so long ago. 

_ I am not allowed to speak to you. Snoke could be listening.  _

Your mind raced, looking for something to say, anything,  _ something. _ Something to help him understand how much you missed him, how much you wanted him back.

_ I’m sorry I left, _ Kylo murmured, and you smiled. 

_ Where are you? Let me find you. Let me bring you home.  _

_ There isn’t time for that. I don’t know how long I’ll have to speak to you, so shut up and listen.  _ You went into a stunned silence, listening carefully as Kylo began spinning his plan. You hummed along, and then a smile ghosted your face. 

_ Perfect. _

You still had to go through with the plans Leia, Solus, and you had planned; however, this made life a lot easier for both you and Kylo, granted he could hold up his plan. 

_ Will it work? _

Kylo paused, pondering your question.  _ I hope so.  _

You sighed, stirring in your rest.  _ Why am I like this? Why can’t I move?  _

_ Uh, that would be me, sorry about that. I had to get into your head via the bond, but there’s been....  _ Kylo paused, as if he were listening.  _ I have to go. I remember what you told me. I love you. _

_ I remember what you told me. _

You dug through your memories; you had told Kylo many things, but what thing was he speaking of? 

You stirred again, groaning, but unable to move. The world around you came into focus, and sounds were no longer a muffled blur, as if you were underwater. 

“Shh! She’s waking up!” You heard someone growl, and the voice was familiar, as if by some sort of... ghost? No, no; it wasn’t a ghost, the voice was too real. 

You opened your eyes, and the lights of the medical ward made you groan and try to toss your arms over your eyes. “Off,” you growled out, your voice hoarse and deep. “Turn the lights off.” 

Someone rushed to do just that, tripping over their own feet in the process. The lights were turned off, and you relaxed, realizing why you weren’t able to move your arms. They were strapped down along the rails of the medcot, and you looked over in confusion to see Jake, Solus, and Liberty looking at you warily. 

“What, did I try to kill someone in my sleep?” You asked, and then paused. “Why am I here?” 

Solus was the first to reply. “You’ve been down for three weeks.” 

_ Three weeks? _

“That doesn’t explain why I’m chained  _ to the fucking bed, _ ” you growled out, your back in agony. 

“You had to be restrained for varying reasons. Nightmares caused you to lash out violently, screaming in a language none of us understood; there were times when you used the Force to destroy things about the room; you warped metal to artistic sculptures in your dreams, and I’ve never seen anything like it.” Liberty had replied this time, and you looked at her, her gold eyes glinting back at you in the dim light. 

“It was as if you had turned into Kylo,” Solus murmured, not meeting your gaze. You had since realized that she and Kylo had history; you just hadn’t found out what yet. 

Jake had been silent the entire time, but his wary, caring brown gaze told you he’d been there since you’d fallen into your coma, and through every nightmare and probably through Kylo’s appearance. 

“He spoke to me,” you murmured, unlatching the restraints with seemingly no effort and pushing yourself upright, slowly, rubbing circulation back into your joints. 

“Who did?” Solus asked, confused. 

You looked to Jake, who, from the darkest corner, muttered, “Kylo Ren.” 

Solus looked between the two of you, violet eyes narrowed, and then said, “You and Jake have a training bond, don’t you?” 

Both of you nodded in response; you hadn’t said anything, not really, figuring that Jake had already said something. Liberty whistled in response, flipping an obsidian knife in her hand. “Oooooh, you guys are  _ busted. _ ”

“I’m sorry, how old are you?” You snapped at her, and the girl smirked, chewing on a toothpick, smug as hell. 

“Seventeen. Don’t worry too much about me,  _ princess, _ I can handle myself. Ever since this one--” she nodded towards Jake “--and his brother took me in, I’ve been saving their asses.” 

“Look what good it did Britain,” Jake snarled, and she snorted. 

“Hey, he’s not dead. I know that much.” She shrugged, standing. “He hasn’t made himself known. I may be an ass, but prying into people’s minds is a job for Madi, not me.” 

“Yeah, well, Madi can suck my--” 

“Children,  _ enough, _ ” Solus hissed out, and Jake and Liberty shut up, Liberty with a smug smirk across her lips and her arms crossed. Turning back to you, Solus sighed. “What did he tell you?” 

You shook your head. “I can’t say. I can’t risk Snoke knowing.” 

Solus froze, eyes wide. “He’s.... _ Oh, stars. _ ” She stood, tossing her matted black hair out of her eyes and pacing. Her white shirt was rumpled, black vest wrinkled, and the holster for a blaster strapped to her thigh made her look less like a captain in the Resistance and more like a scoundrel. “I’ve been stripped of my rank, torn to shreds by the Council, and the dying breed that is the four of us in this room and a few others are currently being hunted by Snoke and Luke Skywalker, all things that happened in the last  _ week. _ Care to share anything else, Doctor? Or are you done with your damn curveballs?” 

“Don’t turn this into a set of problems caused by me!” You snapped, looking at her with shock and a little bit of fear. “I don’t know why Luke is looking for us, or why you’ve been stripped of your rank, nor what we are! All I know is that I’m being trained, trained by God knows who because apparently the only goddamn person in this room I know is me!” 

Liberty’s eyebrows shot up on the venom in your voice, and Jake couldn’t meet your eyes. Solus sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and pacing. “This is ridiculous. We haven’t even led our raid on the First Order yet and everything is getting fucked up by forces we can’t control.” 

You hummed in response, running a tired hand through your hair. “Why was I in.... a coma, for lack of a better word?” 

Jake shrugged. “I was in your head, kid. All I saw was Kylo Ren in it.” 

“So you brought me to the medical ward?” 

“It was the only place we could make sure you stayed hydrated and safe without risking people asking questions. We explained this with a training incident and that was that.” Solus shrugged, sighing. “Anakin is not happy with us.” 

You probed the space in your head he usually occupied, only to find it empty. “I don’t feel him anymore,” you murmured, confused and shocked at the revelation. Over the last year and a half, you’d gotten used to Anakin’s presence in your mind. It was almost as real as the bond between you and Kylo or you and Jake. 

Solus hummed, sighing. “It’s because he fled your mind the second Kylo got in. He has a habit of saving his own ass and leaving others out to dry. He should return in a few days, now that you’re awake. I’ve also been feeding Pickles, by the way.” 

You sighed in relief. “Poor kitty. Probably has no idea where I am.” 

“Last I went in there, Jessika Pava  was poking around looking for you. Damned pilots can’t mind their own business,” Solus growled out, but then shrugged. “Wanted to know if you knew where some dude named Finn was.” 

_ Finn! _

You dove straight into the Force, looking at your bed in panic as you searched for Poe’s Force signature and plowed right into his head.  _ POE!! _

_ Holy shit, hello, glad to see you’re alright, about time you joined the party.  _

_ Now’s not the time for smart-assery; where’s Finn?  _

You felt him chuckle, and Solus looked at you in shock as you turned sheet white at Poe’s response. Jake groaned, and then you slowly pulled out of Poe’s head, the pilot confused to your silence. 

“Finn....” You muttered, and you looked at Jake. 

Together, you two breathed out, “ _ Phasma. _ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13TH!!! So, I just finished drafting chapter ten, and holy fuck does this chapter have so much info and shit, and holy shit is it SO FUCKING LONG. 7429. Y'all are gonna hate slash love me?? Whatever.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey, now a second-year padawan in the New Jedi Order, asks something of her master-- something he is not fully prepared to give. She learns of her sister, Minerva, and soon demands what she had previously asked for.   
> You and Solus scramble to make plans to march your way into Crescent Base, the plans given to you by two strange women who claim to know an old friend of yours.

_ Rey has seen into your mind _ before. 

A long time ago, on the  _ Finalizer. _ She’d gotten into Kylo’s head by accident, and then even more inadvertently, yours. She couldn’t forget the look on your face as you told her to run, to get as far away from Starkiller as possible-- it haunted her dreams similar to the way she saw Han’s death over and over. 

As she sat in meditation, the cool ocean breeze at her back, she felt you. It wasn’t like you were looking for her. She just felt your presence the same way she had on the bridge of the base; watching over her, protecting her.  _ You needed her help.  _ It was a call the young girl couldn’t resist. 

The nineteen-year-old leapt to her feet, darting towards Luke on the little island. He felt his padawan’s approach before she arrived, and she looked at him with wild eyes. “We have to go back.” 

“Your training is not yet finished,” Luke remarked, folding the linens as he pulled them off the drying lines and dropping the folded pieces into the wicker basket at his feet. 

“She needs our help,” Rey insisted, her voice sharp and stern; internally, she flinched. He was her master; she should not demand anything of him, especially not like this. 

Luke’s reply was a long, drawn-out one, his blue eyes focused on his task. “Who does?” 

Rey paused, voice soft and gentle. “I don’t know her name.” 

Luke scoffed. “There are a lot of people that need our help, Rey. Some  _ girl _ isn’t going to change that.” He dropped a new linen into the basket and picked it up, marching down towards the temple. 

“This isn’t any girl,” Rey defended, following her master as he headed down with the basket of folded linens. “She saved my life on Starkiller, probably. She.... I was in her  _ head, _ Master, just like I was in Kylo’s.” 

Luke flinched; he did every time she spoke Kylo Ren’s name. “Ben is not capable of such a bond.” 

“Yes, he is,” Rey snapped. “I saw it. I felt it. I feel her the same way now as I did then. She’s  _ desperate _ , Master.”  _ She needs my help, I swear it. _

Luke took a deep breath, doing his best to stay calm. This girl, Rey, tested his patience more than he’d like to admit. She was young, naive, and too old to be training in the Force. But Luke could not deny her, not when she was at his doorstep. “You are not yet done with your training,” he repeated.

“Snoke will destroy this entire galaxy with Ren at his side if we don’t help her, and you  _ know that, _ ” Rey snarled, and Luke whirled at her, dropping the linens on the ground. 

“I agreed to train you so you could continue the lessons of a dying breed, Rey, not to undermine my authority,” Luke snarled, and then realized his outlash after the fact. His shoulders slumped, and he tugged on his beard. “Look, Rey.... I want to believe Ben has good in him. That this girl you speak of is worth our time, that she can save him. But I doubt she really is.” 

“You don’t understand, Master.” 

Rey’s voice was soft, insistent, but very much in awe. Every time she used the Force, it still rendered her in awe. She was in that girl’s head again, and she felt the desperation and anger. It was suffocating. Luke sighed, and after a long silence, he spoke. “You remind me of myself when I was your age, roughly. Wanted to help everyone and save everyone, live in glory and legend.” Luke laughed, his voice bitter. “Sometimes, now, I wish I’d never left Tatooine. You, in time, will miss Jakku. Maybe not the people, maybe not what you did there, but the simplicity of it all.” 

Rey nodded. “Master, I have to help her. This could save the entire galaxy; not just Ben, not just you and I. This could save all of us.” 

Luke sighed--there would be no stopping this girl, he felt it in his bones. “I understand.... Come with me.” 

Luke lead her down the staircase she’d once come up, the staircase to the last time her life changed. She had a feeling it was about to change again, as if that foreboding she’d felt so long ago was finally rearing its ugly head. The Jedi master was silent in his thought process, and Rey could feel the cogs turning. What was she supposed to be to him? 

“When I taught on Yavin,” Luke whispered, entering a small cave, “I had a student. Her name was Minerva. She was close with Ben, the only one he let close other than you. She saved your life from him, Rey. Minerva died to protect you. She was your sister.” 

_ Sister? _ Rey thought, her mind reeling.  _ I have a sister? Had a sister? _

“Don’t worry; the body that was Minerva still lives. Minerva, though, died. She became.... Someone else. Something even more Gray than what she was under my care. She sought revenge.” Luke used his saber as a light source, the green light washing everything in an eerie light. He tore through a few boxes, and then finally pried the lid off one of the crates. “Hold this,” he ordered, and Rey came forward and took the saber from him, the scent of ozone sharp in the air. Luke dug around, and then sighed. “Your sister was very good at building things. After.... After the incident, I found these in her room.” Luke pulled out a handful of saber hilts, the metal all different types and shades, and all different styles and lengths. 

“She made lightsabers?” Rey asked, running her hands over the cooled metal after Luke set them on the lid. 

He grunted in response, watching Rey’s reaction. This girl, though trying, gave him so much hope. “She was very good at them, too. She was an excellent pilot, but for whatever reason, she couldn’t work on her own ship; she was a terrible mechanic.”  _ Hands made for killing, not for fixing, _ Luke thought, then nodded at the sabers set on the wooden lid. “I don’t know where she got her kaber crystals from. I also don’t know when she had the time to forge these, but she did, and I only wish she would come back so she could make more.” 

“You made your own,” Rey pointed out, gesturing to the green one in her hand. 

Luke smiled, nodding and looking at the silver hilt in Rey’s hand. “That I did. However, mine does not equate to the skill of Minerva’s. Go on, try one. Prove me right.” 

Rey handed the saber back to Luke as she picked up one with a curved hilt, the metal settling into her palm as if it were made for her. She engaged the blade, the white blade shooting out and matching the length of her arm. 

“They’re beautiful, Master,” Rey breathed, the white light even more eerie on her skin. 

Rey switched off the saber and set it back down, only to see one in his hand extended out to her. “This is the one she made for you for when you became a Jedi.” 

Rey looked at him, confused, and gingerly took the silver hilt from him. The layered metal was beautiful, smooth and helped with the user’s grip. She engaged the blade, the amberish-gold light lighting up the room in a beautiful display. 

Rey was speechless. It wasn’t the saber she was used to, no, but it was beautiful. The beam was thinner than Luke’s, the emitter an interesting shape. “Why did she make this for me?” 

Luke smiled, his beard gently pulled by the movement. His voice was soft, gentle, but still fatherly. “You saved her life.” 

“What? I don’t remember--” 

“Minerva was Snoke’s puppet before Kylo, Rey. When you were born, you saved a very young girl from being a terror to the galaxy,” Luke murmured, turning his back to Rey to fidget with the hilts of the sabers.

“How old was she?” 

Luke closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, recalling the memories but trying to leave the emotion in the past. “I remember her showing up on the doorstep, maybe twelve, holding an infant you in her arms. She was bloody, scared. I remember seeing the fear in her eyes, and the feeling of  _ death _ around her. She fought to keep you safe, Rey. You were the light that brought her out of the dark. I watched one of my best students crumble after I took you to Jakku under the stress of knowing she could never see you again.” 

Rey stared at the saber, which balanced better in her hand and seemed to be.... Right. “If I could save her,” Rey murmured, brown eyes flicking to Luke, “why can’t I save Kylo?” 

“Ben is too far gone for you to save. But this girl you speak of, the one you think needs your help.... She can save him. Hopefully.”

Luke’s remark was as shocking to Rey as was his honesty. She looked at him, her braided hair blowing gently in the breeze from the sea that came through the mouth of the cave. “Are you going to help me?” She asked him, her voice small and scared. It reminded Luke of the time he took her to Jakku, the girl asleep in his arms and memory erased clean of the Force and her ability to use it. 

“You don’t need my help,” Luke smiled, his eyes twinkling. “But I  _ do  _ miss the chaos of war. I’ll contact Leia and see what I can do.” 

Rey broke out into a grin, laughing and hugging Luke tightly. The Master Jedi froze, and then relaxed into the hug, hugging his padawan back gently. The grin that cut across her face was contagious, and Luke smiled gently, her slim waist still in his embrace as if she were his own daughter. 

“We can save him, I know it. We can help her.” 

Rey might have been naive, but at least she was honest and pure. 

Luke regretted taking her in. That innocence, that purity, was bound to be destroyed. 

\-----------------------------

_ You sat upright in your bed _ , wide awake. 

You heard her voice.  _ Rey’s  _ voice, the voice you hadn’t heard since Starkiller.  _ We’re coming. _ It echoed in your head like a warning, but carried the tone of someone made to help, to support. It was not an ominous call, not at all. 

You flew out of your bed, tugging on boots and pants and a shirt in a mess of limbs and knotted hair. Anakin appeared, his blue image looking at you like a confused child.  _ What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be sleeping? _

You ignored his second question, because, yes, you should be sleeping. It was about three AM, which seemed to be the time that shit went down and oh-so-conveniently decided to wake you up with it. Stars forbid you got some actual sleep without having some nightmare or dream enduced by the Force. “I’m going to find Solus,” you hissed out, almost tripping over yourself as you tugged your boots up, the zipper catching on your pants and causing you to lose your balance, hopping about as you struggled to stay up. He watched you grab a jacket, tossing it on as you headed to the door, borrowed saber clipped to your belt. He followed you, almost stalking you. 

_ Is this about Rey? _

“You heard her. I have to warn Solus, I can’t--” Your hand on the keypad, about to open the door, and Anakin froze it. “Anakin!” You hissed out, turning to glare at him. Acting like a child on his part was  _ not _ going t0 help anyone.

_ I can’t let you warn Solus,  _ he said, eyes narrowed but panic in his voice. It was like he was afraid of Luke. Considering his past, you thought it wasn’t that odd -- Anakin did kind of die for his son. 

“I don’t have to stand here and take this,” you growled at him. 

Anakin raised an eyebrow, his face solemn.  _ But where will you go? _

You marched right up to him, glaring him in the eyes. You didn’t care if he was dead or not; he wasn’t going to prevent you from leaving.  Though he was taller than you, you had no problem puffing up to his height much like Amena had in the face of adversity. “You  _ will _ let me go,” you hissed out, and Anakin curled his lip at you. 

_ You can’t control me with your mind games. I am the master of them.  _

You glared at him, daring him to stop you. Your mind reached out, Pickles yowling in the background in your sudden intrusion at his personal space. The cat came to your rescue and barreled through where Anakin was standing, distracting him enough that you were able to tap in the code and leave. 

Anakin appeared next to you in the deserted hallway, glaring at you.  _ This is foolish. _

“You’re foolish,” you hissed at him, not looking at him as you darted around a corner into a maintenance hallway. The dim light cast shadows about your face, your eyes focused ahead in a glinting shadow as you lifted your knotted hair into a messy bun atop your head. Your long stride, so used to having to keep up with Kylo’s fast pace, had you flying across the catwalk, your borrowed saber’s staff in your hand, just in case. Anakin glided beside you, looking pissed.  _ This is a mistake. _

“Anakin,” you hissed, whirling at him. “This is it. This is our chance to get Kylo back, it’s what you wanted. It’s why you brought me here. It’s why I have this saber, it’s why I can use the Force. I feel it in my bones. Is it foolish? Probably. A mistake? Possibly. Will I do it anyway? You bet your  _ ass  _ I will. Take a seat, Anakin, if you’re not going to help me.” 

You spun back around, marching down the rest of the catwalk away from him after finishing your small rant. He didn’t follow you, thank the stars. You found yourself in front of Solus’s office, though it wasn’t marked under  _ Captain Solus _ anymore, and with a nudge with the Force, you woke her up.  _ Open the door, Solus.  _

_ I really don’t wish to get out of bed, _ she mused, and as you pressed against her mind, you felt others’ in there with her.

_ Then let me in. It’s important.  _

_ You can tell me like this.  _

_ No, it’s not safe.  _

You felt the indecision from Solus, and then the former captain got up and opened the door, standing in front of you with her hair cut short. Her formerly-long hair was now not much longer than a pixie, and the hair was tossed in several different directions as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Your eyes shot open, nodding. “That’s a good look for you.” 

She humphed, and then stood aside so you could enter the room. You did so, finding Jake and Liberty already in the room with Solus, Liberty’s eyes made bright by the moonlight that fell across her face in a strip. “This better be good, Doctor,” Solus growled out. 

“Have you found Finn?” You asked Jake. 

He nodded, telling you the location. He stood and gripped your hand, his warm fingers lacing through yours. The man was never without making sure that you were real, that all of what you two had was still real. It wasn’t a romantic love, though. It was something much stronger than that, a bond unbreakable, not unlike yours and Kylo’s. Oh, how it had grown. 

You smirked. “Excellent. I will pass on the information.” 

Solus grabbed you by the shoulder. “To whom?” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Allies.”

It took Solus a moment to know who you meant. “They’re coming.” 

You nodded, watching the dark-haired scoundrel sit down on the floor in the dim light. Moonlight cut across the room in silver beams, glinting off Liberty’s gold eyes and making them appear like steel. Your saber was heavy in your hand, and Jake’s mind softly brushed against yours, a contact from him you hadn’t experienced since you’d woken up from your coma. You let him in, opening up your end of the bond and visibly relaxing at the return of your close, trusted friend. 

_ I missed you, _ you told him, and a small smile graced his face. 

_ I missed you too. Your crazy boyfriend scares me.  _

_ That’s okay, he’s pretty scary. _

Jake chuckled, but Solus thought nothing of it. Liberty reclined against the wall, watching the others in the room with a cold, calculating stare, flipping an obsidian knife in her hand. Solus held her head in her hands, shaking her head. “So that’s it. You, me, Jake, Liberty, Skywalker, and Rey. Against the rest of the First Order.” She lifted her head, smirking. “Naturally, six against ten thousand. Ever hear the story of the three hundred?”

You shook your head. “No. Not necessarily. And the three hundred?” You asked her, confused. 

She waved it off. “I’ll explain at a different time.” 

“Who do you suggest?” Liberty asked, and you smiled, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. Oh, how did you have the  _ perfect  _ man to keep everyone knit together. 

“Samson,” you proclaimed, arms crossed across your chest.

Solus lifted her head. “Samson Rosentreter?” She asked, her voice almost....  _ Vulnerable  _ in a way. 

You nodded, less smug and now more concerned as to how she knew Samson. 

She sighed. “Powerful man, especially with the Force. I didn’t know you knew him.” 

“I didn’t know he used the Force,” you shrugged, and then looked at the others. “Poe’s coming. There’s no way we can stop him. Leia’s already cleared his flight crew, and Jessika’s as well. We have eight pilots at our disposal. Jake, Leia has cleared you to take your twenty elites.” 

Jake nodded. “I’ll have them at briefing in an hour.” 

You nodded. “Solus, make sure they all have sabers at their disposal. We are not Resistance or Republic.” 

She looked up at you, a wicked grin cut into her face. “No, we’re not. We’re Gray Jedi.” 

You nodded. “It’s about time we all started looking like them, too.” 

Solus smirked, a mischievous glint cut into her eyes. “I’ll get what we need. You get Samson on the comms, and try to track down Luke and Rey. This is a war, Doctor. Welcome.” She stood, nodding at Liberty. “You’re with me, kid.” 

She snapped her gum and clambered to her feet, following Solus like a lost puppy.  

Jake clapped you on the shoulder, smiling. “I’m proud of you. Do you have a plan?” 

You flashed a wicked smile, but you shrugged. “I’ve got the Force. What else do I need?” 

Jake nodded, smiling, his eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Fair enough. I have soldiers I need to rouse, then pilots.” 

You nodded, and he left, you closing your eyes and reaching out for that familiar feeling.  _ Rey, Rey.... Come on, girl. I know you’re there.  _

And then you found her. Your eyes snapped open, pushing against her barriers gently. You felt her curiosity, and then you heard a soft,  _ Yes? _

_ I need your help.  _ You told her, and she sighed. 

_ Who is this? _

You presented the memory of her on Starkiller: the interrogation, mainly.  _ “You’re afraid.... You’re afraid that you’ll never be as strong as Darth Vader!”  _ Your mind then flipped to when she escaped, you telling her to run; then, Han’s death, the bloodcurdling scream that had left her throat and the scream of anger and frustration that had left yours almost simultaneously.  _ I have never truly left you, it seems, young Jedi.  _ You mused, and then Rey smirked. 

_ No, you haven’t. I likely owe you my life.  _

_ Likely doesn’t cut it. Kylo would have killed you if I hadn’t told him not to, to resist what the Dark was telling him.  _

Her voice was small.  _ I felt it. I felt the Dark, telling me to kill him.  _

_ I thank you for not doing that. You would have killed me as well.  _ Your voice was crisp, professional, almost stiff, and then you relaxed, the memories of the wounds you’d endured through the bond fading.  _ Are you headed for Leia, or for Finn?  _

_ Leia. Isn’t Finn with her? _

You laughed nervously, and you felt her curiosity and awe turn to fear and dread.  _ Oh no. Is Finn okay? Where is he? _

_ With Phasma, at the First Order. My companions and I are leading a small attack to get him back, but with you and Luke by our side, we could finish the First Order for good.  _ You paused, taking a breath and refocusing yourself.  _ We could finally end this war.  _

Rey paused, likely communicating your words to Luke. She hissed, and you felt her presence shoved aside, only to find Luke’s almost attacking you. 

You shoved back, standing your ground. 

_ So. You’re the girl that Rey has been going on and on about. Ben’s girlfriend.  _ His voice was old, crackled, like he had spent his life smoking. You figured it was really from years of not speaking. 

You curled your lip, recoiling at his sudden intrustion.  _ What are you, an overprotective father? _

_ Tell me about it,  _ Rey sniffed, and you cracked a smile. 

_ I’m something like that. Leia sought you out?  _

You hummed in response. 

He seemed to radiate a sense of amusement, though you knew it was something far different. Whatever it was, it made him feel again, something he hadn’t truly done since Ben.  _ When and where do you need us? _

You smirked, your heart racing and your palms a little sweaty, but you weren’t scared. Not yet.  _ Briefing is in about an hour. Can I just get your commnumber? _

Managing to find a pen, you scribbled it on your arm as you headed for your bunker.  _ Excellent. Expect us. _ You ended the contact, the durasteel floors causing your heavy footsteps to echo as you wandered the deserted halls, but wandered with a purpose. Your dark clothes mirrored your mind, your eyes fixed forward in focus. You felt a presence beside you, and you spun, engaging your saber and shoving the person against the wall. 

The girl was almost as tall as Kylo, with dyed-purple, pink, and blue hair. Her blue-gray eyes flashed wickedly, but she did not retaliate. “Nice to meet you too, Doctor,” she hissed out, glaring at you, gently pushing your amber saber from her throat. 

A redhead came wheeling around the corner in a wheelchair, her headscarf falling off her head as she frantically caught up with her friend. “Stars, Dylan, you’re going to make my elbows dislocate again.” 

Dylan sighed, looking at her friend in confusion and defeat as she rolled her shoulder back into place. “I can’t do anything without your supervision, can I?” 

“Nope.” The redhead adjusted her scarf, tucking her stray hair in. “Last time I let you out of my sight you almost got yourself killed.” 

You looked in confusion at the two of them, and then the taller girl sighed, shoving you off of her and rubbing the small burn at her throat. “I’m Dylan. This is Lilliana. We’re friends of Deirdre’s.” 

_ Deirdre. _ Your mind flicked back to the woman you’d encountered a few times on Starkiller, the strange blonde whom you’ve never heard from again. You sighed, doing your best to keep your patience. “Doesn’t explain why you were following me,” you hissed at her, eyes narrowed.

Dylan nodded, not meeting your gaze as she turned from her friend back to you. “Right. Uh, yeah. It’s about Solus. Should I do the whole “ _ wooo there’s a sense of forboding in the air” _ thing or nah, Lil?” 

Your interest spiked, and you looked between the two of them. Dylan wore all black, with tattoos dotting her exposed skin; Lilliana was in browns and creams, her headscarf printed with images of birds and trees. Glasses were perched on the nose of Lilliana, and she giggled a little under your study, but she shrugged. “I dunno man, up to you.” 

Dylan turned her attention back to you, her tone shifting. “Ah, fuck it. Solus is planning something that could, you know, fuck everything over. So I’d be careful that she doesn’t storm the castle too soon, you know? Solus is unstable, almost untrustworthy. Also, here’s a blueprint of the base you’re heading in to. Phasma is general now, so you’ll have to be wary of that. I don’t know that much about strategy, but if you need me, I’ll fight with you.” Dylan pulled a band off her wrist and pulled up her hair into a messy bun at the base of her neck, her bangs falling in wavy locks over her eyes after handing you the black drive. 

Lilliana scoffed. “No, Dylan, you won’t be there. You and I have too much work to do.” 

Dylan rolled her eyes, walking away with Lillian rolling along beside her. “All work, no play. You bore me.” 

“The fact you equate war with  _ play _ bothers me.”

“The fact you’re equating this little skirmish with war bothers me.” 

The two of them were walking away, continuing their little bickering sessions. You looked at the drive that had been pressed into your hand, your amber saber still in your hand. You switched it off, sticking it back on your belt, and heading for your bunker to comm Samson. 

By the time you got on the comms with Samson, he was already aware of the situation--Solus had contacted him. You never questioned how he’d known Solus -- the man was the type that just knows everyone -- but rather, how she knew him. You were chatting with him as you headed for the situation room, where everyone was to be briefed. His voice always calmed your nerves.

You walked in, set the comm down, and dialed in Rey and Luke on another comm. Leia looked at you, confused, and then you said, “Alright, Skywalker, Rey. You’re live.” 

Rey’s voice crackled through. “About time, Doctor. Luke’s practically shitting himself he’s so anxious.” 

Leia laughed, and there was a shout from the background from Luke. Samson chuckled, and you smirked, leaning on the table. “General. I believe these are maps to the location, and of it. Sam, Luke, Rey, you guys should be getting this on your holos.” 

“I’m reading loud and clear,” Samson replied, and an affirmative came from Rey. 

“Where the hell are Liberty and Solus?” Jake asked, and the said girls came stumbling in, carrying boxes of items. 

“The hell?” You asked, and Solus smirked. 

“One box is sabers. The other is uniforms.” Solus winked at you. “Someone told me that we weren’t Resistance or Republic, but Gray Jedi.” You recalled the rows and rows of sabers this girl had made herself; state-of-the-art, the most stable ones out there, and a grin cut across your face. 

“I really don’t know what this is going to do for us to get Finn back,” Poe hissed out, and Rey hummed an agreement, her voice almost as sharp as Poe’s. Jessika pressed a comforting hand to Poe’s arm, but he pushed her hand off. 

“I’m with Poe. What will uniforms and  _ sabers _ help you with?” 

Solus laughed, that same sadistic light on her face. “You see, young Jedi, things are a little different with the Gray up in here. These sabers will help tell the Siths we’re looking for and fighting against that we’re still here, that we haven’t died out. In fact, we seem to be doing better than you at the moment, Skywalker.” 

You, Jake, Leia, Solus, Poe, Jessika, and Liberty were all at the main table, the seven of you looking around at each other in a mixture of emotions. Poe’s curly hair was tamed by a hat, and Jessika looked like she’d just been dragged out of bed. Liberty turned and started handing out uniforms as Leia looked at us, brown eyes warm. 

“This is an operation I cannot fully sanction. As leader of the Resistance, I can tell you that the fifty or so of you are all you’re going to get. You will be flying unmarked ships, and Solus’s idea of uniforms help solidify that. You are not part of us anymore. Until you come back, stars hope that it’s alive and kicking and not in a pine box,  _ you are not Republic or Resistance. _ You are on your own.” Leia’s eyes scoured the six of you at the table, and then the crowd behind you. 

You all nodded in agreement, and affirmatives came from Samson, Rey, and Luke.

Leia looked at Solus, and then at Jake. “Former Captain Solus is in command. From there, she will deem rank. I cannot be in here any longer, but good luck, and may the Force be with all of you.” She turned and strode out of the room, and Solus smirked, grabbing a holopad and settling back into command. 

“Alright, everyone. Let’s make one thing clear: what Organa has said is true. You are now all Gray Jedi, regardless of your training in the Force. Liberty is handing out uniforms; these hold up a little better against blasters and vibroblades than your standard uniforms.” Solus nodded at you. “If I am not available, report to Xavier. If she is not available, report to Kazmarek. Dameron, Pava, you can decide between the two of you if you’d like to be equal in rank or not.” 

From there, Solus went into detail about the types of ships you’d be flying, the flight path, and schematics of the building. 

“Luke, Samson, and Rey, you three will be with Jake and the lovely doctor. You five will be responsible for extracting the First Order targets. Poe’s and Jessika’s teams of infantry will be responsible for finding and extracting Finn, the former Trooper. Don’t make rookie mistakes. Those of you are the best of the best we have.” Solus’s fingers tapped on the holopad with extreme accuracy, typing up the marching orders as she went along. 

You looked on, watching them with extreme attention; but your mind flashed to what you were before, how this type of activity would have appalled you; in fact, the amount of time you spent trying to stop Kylo from going on his campaigns was astronomical. 

How much you’ve changed in the years. 

You stood your ground, your black leather flight jacket cutting off at the small of your back. Your hands tapped on your holopad, moving people under your command. Solus went into all sorts of theoretical situations, and you accidentally tuned out, only to find Jake speaking to you. 

_ You zoned out.  _

_ I’m sorry. I just don’t know why all of these situations need to be ran through. We’re wasting time.  _

_ It’s how Solus commands. Before the mission on Starkiller, she never lost a man on a mission. She’s very good at doing this, Doctor. You should let her. _

You sighed, and then drew your attention back to the briefing. Solus nodded at you, and you gulped, a little nervous. “Everyone, dismissed. We leave at zero-eight-hundred hours.” 

You glanced at the time. That was four hours from now. 

Solus approached you, touching you on the shoulder. You looked at her, smiling. “Hi.” 

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week,” she smiled, rubbing your jawline with her thumb. 

“More or less. Anakin has been a little bitch lately.” 

“With everything amping up, I’m not surprised. His interaction with the environment is getting more and more common, which means he’s getting more and more Sith-like. I’d be careful with what you tell him at this point.” Solus pressed a kiss to your forehead, and then wrapped you in a giant bear hug. She let down your hair, running her hand through it to detangle it. “If I were you, I’d cut this mess off,” she murmured, gently working out the knots. “Long locks are dangerous during war. An opponent can grab it and use it to control you.” 

You nodded, pressing your eyes into her shoulder. “I’m scared.” 

“That’s alright. All heroes are.” She pulled away from you, looking you in the eye. “It’s what makes you brave, Doctor. It’s your fear. Going out there and facing your fear.” 

“I don’t want to kill anyone.” 

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” Solus smiled. “The soldiers assigned to you are some of the best. You definitely made sure of that. They’ll protect you and help you carry out your goal until they die, and let’s hope they don’t do that.” 

You nodded, hugging her tightly before letting go and heading for the door. 

“And Doctor, aren’t you forgetting something?” 

You turned to look at her, and she held out a uniform to you. It was in a bundle, with a jacket that had the Gray Jedi logo on the back. 

“How did you get the time to make these?” You asked her, holding the bundle in your arms. 

“The Force can help us do amazing things, Doctor. And that saber? Keep it.” 

“But it’s your favorite,” you protested. 

Solus smiled at the ground, her violet eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I... I have my own. They have not seen the light of day in a very long time, but they are mine. Truly mine. They are who I was, who I am, and who I will be. I cannot run from them anymore.” 

You picked up the comms off the table, finding that Luke, Rey, and Solus had signed off at Solus’s dismissal. You smiled, the holotable reacting to your touch. “Are we still talking about lightsabers,  _ General _ ?” You asked, your eyes flicking to meet hers. 

Her violet eyes greeted yours, her spiked black hair no longer hiding her face. “Is that the only question you have, Doctor?” 

You smiled and pushed off the table, walking to the door. “We’ll see. May the Force be with you.” 

“And you,” she echoed, and then you left the room, striding down the hallways towards your bunker. 

This was the point of no return, you mused. Before this you  _ could _ have left at any point in time that you wanted. Just.... left. No explanation. Just packed up and went back with Samson, with the easy life. 

But you didn’t. You were here, about to march into territory owned by your friends in an attempt to save them.  _ What if they don’t want to be saved? _ You asked yourself, staring at your hands. What if you couldn’t save them? 

Your hands closed into fists; you  _ had _ to save them. There was no other choice. They were coming with you to the Light, and there was no other option. 

_ No other option. _

That was your determination as you tapped in the key code to your bunker, the buttons now worn and faded. You’ll have to change the code if you come back. 

You stepped into the dark bunker, Pickles mewing at your feet excitedly at your return. You smiled at him, heading into the bathroom and drawing up a bath. You set the uniform on the bathroom counter, dropping your clothes to the floor and sinking into the warm, soothing water. 

With the Force, you made tea, carrying the kettle and a mug into the bathroom with you.  _ The Force can be used for many things, indeed, _ you chuckled to yourself, sipping at the relaxing tea. 

Pickles jumped up onto the lip of the tub, purring as he crouched where you could pet him. You managed to get your holopad to play some relaxing instrumental music, and you sunk even lower into the warm water, the water almost covering your entire face. 

You didn’t know how long you laid there, but the water grew cold, and your body ached from sitting in the position you were in. You rose out of the water, Pickles jumping onto the counter, and drained the tub, wrapping a towel around yourself.  You went into the kitchen and got a pair of scissors and a knife, walking back into the bathroom. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your eyes tired and face aged far beyond your years. Maybe it was the temporary stress you were under. Your eyes flicked to your long, beautiful hair, the likes of which you’d spent years growing out. It hung in heavy curtains around your face, especially when wet, and you decided to trust Solus. 

You gathered your long hair at the base of your neck, and with the knife, you cut off your hair. 

Almost three feet of hair fell to the floor, tickling the back of your legs as it fell. You picked up the scissors, and began styling. 

About six more inches of hair fell to the floor, leaving you with a hairstyle not unlike Phasma’s, but a bit shorter. Pickles mewed up at you in confusion, and you nodded. “I know, kitty. It’s weird. But it has to be done.” You pet him, the gray-and-white cat pushing against your hand and purring, eyes closed. 

Gathering the hair from the floor, you shoved it into the waste bin and then tugged on the uniform. 

The gray shirt was heavy and form-fitting, but it didn’t restrict movement. The shoulders were cut-out, and the sleeves ended just above your elbow. The trousers were black, made of denim, and hugged your legs, but they didn’t restrict movement either. The jacket, which was black leather, had the Gray Jedi logo embroidered on the back. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror, and then checked the time. 

03:45. 

You turned and walked out, closing the door behind you and asking Leia to take care of Pickles. The tired general agreed, and you tugged on the jacket, brushed your hair out of your eyes, and made your way to the hangar. 

Solus encountered you, and you stopped to hug her. She wore all black, her jacket the same as yours. 

“Your hair looks nice,” she smiled, patting you on the shoulder. 

You smiled. “Thanks, Solus.” 

She nodded, patting you on the shoulder. “Saber?” 

You nodded, pulling it out of your back pocket. 

She smiled, gripping your arm and giving you a pained smile. “You got this, Xavier.” 

“I know.” You smiled, and then you went to get on Poe’s ship, your entire crew following you onto the ship. 

“Everyone strap in, this is gonna be a bit rough,” Poe called out, and you slid into the copilot’s seat, nodding at him. 

“I don’t need a co-pilot,” he murmured, looking frantic as he flipped switches and awaited orders from Solus. 

“I know you don’t. I need a friend,” you replied, strapping yourself into the seat. Poe smiled gently, easing into the chair. 

“Alright, you got a friend,” he smiled, a wicked grin cutting into his face. “Just hang on, ‘cause I’m not losing my Finn.” 

You nodded, and then looked out as Poe lead the fleet of eight out of the hangar and out of the atmosphere, slamming into hyperspeed as soon as possible. 

You looked forward, your face paling as you slowly realized what direction you were heading. 

_ To the dark. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cracks knuckles* here we go, guys. headfirst towards battle. let's have some fun, guys. sid out!!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo finally starts coming to terms with who he is, what he's done, and who he's becoming, all the while pining for you. Solus has to face her past, with the return of Rey and Luke Skywalker, along with your eccentric behavior as you grow anxious for the impending battle, as if you just know someone is hunting you.

_ Kylo Ren was a changed man. _

Many people wouldn’t believe it, but it was true. He hid, in the shadows, with Dylan and Lilliana. Dylan seemed to have a revolving door of girls in her bed every night, whereas Lilliana simply treated wounds and kept the peace between the hotheaded bright-haired girl and himself. 

One evening, Kylo walked into the little dwelling they had on a small forest moon that they never shared the name of, Dylan on a chair with Lilliana sitting across from her, wheelchair pulled up in front of the young girl and stitching wounds on Dylan’s head. 

“What happened?” Kylo asked, and Dylan shrugged, eyes flicking away from him and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she spat out. “I brought back money, that’s all that matters.” She nodded towards the stack of credits on the table, easily amounting to as much as twenty thousand credits. “I won tonight.” 

Lilliana sighed, finishing the stitching while shaking her head. “You need to stop fighting, Dylan.” The girl shrugged, then threw back a glass of water like a shot and then stalked off to stars know where, probably her little house in the trees behind the modest dwelling. 

The dark-haired former Sith sat down at the chestnut table, staring at the bottle of scotch and picking at his fingernails. 

“I worry about her,” Lilliana finally said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her headscarf had been swapped for a hat on the chilly day, and her red hair was more out of control because of it, red curls everywhere. 

Kylo looked up, and she sighed, wheeling her chair to face the table as she cleaned up her medical supplies. “What do you mean?” He asked, eyes following her movements. 

“Dylan comes from the streets. Her family abandoned her, so she enlisted in the military. They trained her, turned her into a killer.  _ Solus _ turned her into a killer. Trained her in the Force, but not how to control it. She’s.... Angry. Confused. As if the world doesn’t make sense. I suppose, to her, it doesn’t. She’s nineteen, Kylo. She’s only a kid.” Lilliana rubbed her face, cradling her head in her hands. “Last night she went to Tattooine, entered in a nightly streetfight to bring back money. It’s all she knows. It’s all she is, all she can rely on.” 

Kylo turned his attention from the greiving redhead to the odd girl in the backyard, sitting high in a tree draped about the branches like a wet cloth, relaxed and seemingly at peace. But Kylo saw the war within her, the war between the light and the dark. He knew that battle all too well, and it still raged inside of him. The sun setting behind her washed the girl and the world in beautiful colors, and he’d grown to appreciate that like he did as a child. It was a welcome change from the rains of the Citadel and the snow of the base. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Kylo muttered, shrugging. 

Lilliana shook her head, sighing. “I don’t expect you to do anything, Kylo. You’re like her. She’s killed to further her own goals, she’s killed because they were in her way, she’s killed because she can, and she likes to play God.” Kylo flinched at her words, but Lilliana took a drink of water, and then continued. “But she’s also killed to protect what she loves. She’d sell her soul if it meant protecting her friends and family, if it meant the best for everyone else. Hell, she’s tried to kill herself because she felt I would be better off without her.” 

“And would you?” Ren asked, still picking at his nails. 

“No. I need her. She needs me. It’s symbiotic, like life and the Force.... She is too strong in it for me to handle, though. Her powers exceed mine, but I am a mere healer. I cannot do much in fighting, it is against my morals and my nature.” 

“And yet you live with her,” Kylo murmured. 

“She would be dead if I wasn’t there to save her sorry ass,” Lilliana murmured, and then shrugged. “It is what it is, and we cannot change it. It always is as the Force wills.” 

Kylo nodded, now chewing on his nails, shoulders hunched over and his body language defeated. This phrase seemed to be the key around here, simply that it was the way it was and that it couldn’t be changed. If he believed that bullshit for a moment longer, he’d go insane. The Force was not something who gradually let things happen; it was symbiotic. You had to work for it and the Force would help you, leading you down the path of who you were supposed to be. 

Suddenly, Kylo stood, almost knocking a glass of water over that was sitting on the table. Lilliana looked up, confused, and Kylo turned from her, the Gray Jedi wheeling around the table and rushing after him. “Kylo?” 

“Nothing is as it seems, and we  _ can _ change it,” he hissed out at her. Their droid, BB-12, beeped at him in confusion as he came storming down the hallway, Lilliana not far behind him. “Move,  _ ball, _ ” Kylo hissed at her, and the droid spat out binary that would have made R2D2 blush, if droids could blush. 

Lilliana hushed the two-foot droid, the black-and-gold BB unit rushing after him, spouting more vile binary. Kylo found it to translate something along the lines of a heavily censored  _ How dare you?? I am no ball. Get back here, I’ll headbutt you in  _ **_your_ ** _ balls so hard you’ll be seeing stars for weeks! _

Something was amusing about it. 

Kylo marched right to his borrowed room and started shoving his things into his bags, the things he’d made, the lists of people who had to die before he could go home, everything. 

“Where are you going?” 

Kylo turned to see Dylan standing there, her purple hair swept back from her face and in a wavy mop. Her arms were crossed against her chest, black tank top clinging to her skin and trousers much the same. He never understood the strategy behind her wardrobe; weapons were always obvious on her person. 

“I’m going to complete my plan. And it starts at Crescent Base,” Kylo murmured. 

“Excellent. I’m coming with you,” she murmured, and BB-12 whirred in confusion. _Oh, fuck no. I’m not letting you go_ ** _anywhere_** _with that homicidal maniac._

“Power down, Beetee,” Dylan snarled. “You don’t control me.” 

Kylo tuned the two of them bickering out of his hearing, and when he heard his name being called, he ignored it. Dylan finally grabbed him by his shoulders, looking up at him. “Listen. You’re not going alone.”

“I must,” he murmured, avoiding her steely, piercing gaze. 

“You’re not strong enough, Kylo. You need me,” she protested, hand on her hip.

He shook his head. “I don’t need you,” he insisted, shoving clothes into the duffel on his bed. He was tense, his shoulders locked in place and almost shaking. Something was wrong in the Force, something was not right. 

Dylan rolled her eyes. “By the stars, you’re stubborn. You’ve been with us six months, Kylo. I’m the one who puts you to sleep when your nightmares are too bad to keep you down. I’m the one who can sense better than even you, you said it yourself. I can fight as well as you and I am useful to you.” 

“You can’t follow orders!” Kylo roared, getting in Dylan’s face. 

The girl didn’t shrink away, nor did she flinch. “Is that what this is about?” she snapped, shoving his shoulders. “I’m not  _ old  _ enough? My age has nothing to do with my abilities or training!” 

“That is  _ not _ what I said,” Kylo growled, turning back to shoving his clothes into the bags. 

Dylan shook out her hands, trying to maintain a sense of balance and keep her anger in check, but tapped him on the side of his head, causing him to collapse into her arms, where she gently laid him on the bed. “I’m ready, I know it,” she murmured, and she stood, looking about the dark room. Kylo snored softly on the bed beside her, and next to the bed was his lightsaber, the dark metal glinting in its usual spot. She grabbed it, shoving it on her belt, and darted to her own room, where she packed a bag and grabbed a few medical things. BB-12 rolled in behind her, beeping curiously. 

“Yes, I’m sure I want to do this, Beetee,” Dylan murmured, and she donned her cloak, flipping the hood up and shouldering the bag. 

Beetee sighed as best she could, and then nudged at Dylan’s cloaked leg, beeping softly.  _ Let’s go, _ she sighed out, and Dylan nodded, softly heading out the back door of their little dwelling and making their way to their shared speeder. Dylan bit the inside of her cheek, debating on how to get the speeder back to the house, but decided against bringing it back at all. The outpost was only a few miles away, anyway. 

Beetee rolled her way onto the back of the speeder, latching herself in place while Dylan mounted the speeder, her black cloak flapping in the wind as she zoomed down the dirt path that led to the said outpost. 

Lilliana heard the speeder start up and watched Dylan fly away, shortly rushing to Kylo’s room as quickly as she could wheel herself. Kylo, passed out on the bed like the child he was, was snoring softly, and his saber wasn’t in its usual spot on his nightstand. 

“Kylo,” Lilliana urged, gently shaking his shoulder. 

The ex-Sith barely stirred, and she sighed, brushing her loose, curly red hair behind her ear and resecuring her headscarf before gently laying a hand on his forehead and jolting him awake. 

He yelped, lurching upright and reaching for his saber, a probable reflex from his time with Snoke. Lilliana looked at him with wide blue eyes, her breathing labored. 

“What’s wrong?” Kylo asked immediately, and Lilliana swallowed. 

“I’m fairly certain Dylan just stole the speeder and is going God knows where,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I think she took Beetee and your saber, maybe a bag of things she’d need. I don’t know where she’s going, but she’ll probably get herself killed.”

Kylo groaned, swinging his legs out of the bed and reaching for his cloak. “There is no stopping this girl, is there?” He swung the cloak over his shoulders, securing it at his throat. 

Lilliana shook her head, smiling. “I didn’t raise her like that, no. I’d go after her myself, but obviously I’m limited to where I can go without a working speeder.” 

Kylo paused. “You have another speeder?” 

“Well, yes. But it’s broken. Neither Dylan nor I can fix it,” she murmured, and Kylo smiled at her. 

“Lil, you may have just made this entire predicament a million times better,” he grinned, kissing her on the top of her head. “Lead me to it.” 

The redhead flushed furiously and hid her face, expertly wheeling herself to the storage shed. “In there. Can you fix it in time?” 

“I don’t know, but I know how to get answers from people,” Kylo muttered. “If she runs off, I can track her.” Kylo pulled his hair back, securing it out of his face as he dug around in the shed for the front of the speeder. 

Finally finding it, he tore off the access panel and laughed. “Oh, this isn’t that bad. Just some faulty wiring. Should take about ten minutes to fix.” 

Ten minutes later, Kylo is calling for Lilliana’s help starting it up. The old speeder roared to life, and Kylo looked up, grease streaking his grinning face. “I used to love fixing things,” he murmured, and then sighed. “Ah, a different time.” 

Lilliana scooted back on the speeder to allow Kylo to sit in front of her, the tall ex-Sith allowing the redhead to lean up against his back as they went rushing down the dirt path, the trees whipping by, and Kylo listening to Lilliana’s instructions as they rushed down the path, Lil’s face getting whipped by Kylo’s black hair. As they pulled in to the outpost, Lilliana unfolded her wheelchair and lowered herself into it, Kylo pulling up his hood. 

“Watch yourself,” Lilliana whispered. “All sorts of illegal things happen here at Nymous, especially this time of night.” 

“The sun  _ just _ set,” Kylo muttered from between grit teeth. It smelled of gasoline and tarmac, among many other things he couldn’t place. A smoggy haze hung around the place, probably from exhaust fumes. It was filthy, and drunks lay scattered about the streets, begging for money or looking for a fight. There was a disturbance in the Force bond, as if you were pounding at him to let you in. Lilliana fixed him a confused look, but didn’t comment. 

“Times vary day to day. Depends on who’s in town.” Lilliana scanned the crowds, now dwindling. “Do you see her?” 

“No,” Kylo murmured, reaching out with the Force. She’s here, and he knew she was. He keyed into her signature like a hawk on its prey, and he gave a gruff “Found her” before marching off towards a cantina. His boots crunched on the rocky ground beneath them, and the black cloak floated gracefully behind him, but it was the only thing  _ graceful _ about the moment. He walked into the cantina, almost immediately spotting Dylan sticking out like a sore thumb--even though she really blended in well, save for the droid beside her and the bright purple hair. 

Lilliana rolled in behind him, and the entire room went quiet when she boomed, “ _ Dylan Kenmore-Kazmarek, get your ass over here this instant! _ ” 

The girl stiffened under Kylo’s trained eye, but she didn’t move. Beetee beeped a warning, but Dylan shushed her. 

Kylo marched over to her, tapping her on the shoulder. “I believe we’re looking for you, brat,” he hissed out, and she roared in response, throwing a wicked left hook towards Kylo’s face as she spun to face him. 

He caught it and drove his shoulder into her chest, knocking the wind out of her and throwing her over his shoulder while confiscating his saber from her belt. “Jedi business. Back to your drinks,” he muttered, carrying her out of the cantina. Beetee followed, beeping angrily and attempting to get ahead of the ex-Sith to do whatever damage she could do. Lilliana was following shortly after, angrily shouting at the wheezing Dylan. “What the fuck were you thinking, dumbass? Did you think that your constant fighting wasn’t enough to stress me out? Kylo, set her down; I’ll fucking beat her ass.” 

“I’d rather not,” he sighed, propping the wheezing girl up against the side of the cantina. 

“Fuck you,” she finally managed, and Kylo rolled his eyes and slapped her a little harder than he should have, hoisting her up by her throat and his fingers locked behind her jaw. Beetee screeched, and Lilliana rolled her eyes, switching the droid off so she didn’t have to deal with it. Dylan’s feet scrabbled for a purchase on the brick, booted heels settling into the joints between the brick and mortar, but holding no decent spot for her to lift her body out of his grip. She settled for dangling her feet, knowing what would happen if she kicked herself free this time. 

“What the fuck were you thinking,  _ girl, _ ” he hissed out. “This is not a game, this is not some fantasy of yours that you can live. This is  _ war, _ damn you, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to finish what I started.” 

“Maybe if you stopped being a fucking  _ coward, _ ” Dylan growled out, her eyes narrowed into slits, “I wouldn’t need to fight your beloved war for you.” The two of them were in silence for a moment, and then Kylo dropped her, the girl falling a good foot to collapse at Kylo’s feet, coughing, but still glaring defiantly at Kylo. 

“Don’t make me destroy you,” Kylo finally hissed out before walking away. “She’s all yours, Lil,” he grunted. “I’ll be by the speeders.” He switched on Beetee on his way past, the angry droid beeping warnings at him that he completely ignored, even getting zapped a few times by an electric current the droid decided to produce. As Kylo walked away, Dylan getting lectured the whole time in the background, he wondered why he went after this girl anyway. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t his style. She was no target for him to hunt; she was just a girl. But apparently, the Force had other plans for this  _ girl. _

In all honesty, he had had his fill of important girls gifted in the Force. 

Dylan mounted the speeder behind him, and Lillian took the other, probably needing to blow off steam. She zoomed down the trail and out of sight, but K/ylo relaxed and went a long way, Dylan resting up against him, her cloak flapping rapidly in the wind behind her as she sheepishly wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on. 

_ I’m sorry, _ Dylan finally said, and Kylo hummed in response. 

_ This is exactly why I told you not to come with me, Kenmore, _ he sighed, and she nodded, her head bobbing along his spine. 

_ I know. I’m sorry. I’m just tired of staying out of something I was trained to fight in, you know? This is what I was bred for, what I was conditioned for. By Solus, by Lor San Tekka-- I was bred to stop this war, and yet, here I am. Clinging to the back of the former Sith I was charged to kill a decade ago, but could never will myself to. _ She snuggled up against him, shivering _. I’m cold. _

He nodded.  _ I am too. _

They finally pulled up to the house, Lilliana furiously waiting outside for the shamed prodigal adopted daughter. Dylan got off the speeder, hanging her head in defeat as she approached the fuming woman, dropping something at the door that didn’t seem to be noticed by either party. They went inside, and Kylo stayed outside, unable to find the will to go indoors. He walked up to the little porch where the girls had been arguing, and picked up what Dylan had dropped. It was an arrowhead, made of agate. He’d seen stories of a time before lightsabers, galaxies away without them, in his textbooks and storybooks. They would fire them at targets, and the wounds were wickedly horrid. 

Where would Dylan have gotten one of these? 

He sighed and strung the necklace around his neck, taking his cloak off and going back in the shed to keep working on the speeder. Music was softly playing in the background, Kylo tearing the old speeders apart and replacing parts and such as needed. A majority of the problems with them were related to just care-- an oil change, brake fluid, the works. He washed the old things down and repainted the rusting metal with a paint that would prevent further rusting, and around midnight, Dylan came out, her hair a mess and her sleep shirt haphazardly tossed across her shoulders. 

“Whatcha doin?” she asked tiredly, her eyes furrowed. 

“I’m fixing your speeders,” Kylo murmured, and then sighed. “Know how to change oil?” 

She shook her head, running her fingers through her untamed hair. “Jake was always the mechanic. Britain studied psychology, I think. You’re more likely to know than I.” 

He only smiled, knowing she was right. He’d hand-picked Britain, and he’d personally exiled him when he became too much of a threat. “And you?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t remember.” 

Kylo paused, looking up. This girl was a mess, even more of a mess than he was at her age; and she was most definitely lying to him. Finally, he sighed, beckoning her over. “Here. I’ll show you.” She came over, rolling her shoulder and popping it back into place as she walked over to him. Dark bruises had started to form where she had been hit from fighting and where he’d had her by the throat, and the stitches on her forehead were tiny, but the wounds were raised, an angry pink stripe across her eyebrow. A pang of guilt hit him like Chewie’s bowcaster shot, and the said scar on his left hip panged. He quickly ran her through the process, and coached her through changing the oil as she did so, her face scrunched up from concentration. 

She wiped off her hands after, smiling. “Didn’t know the big, scary Kylo Ren was a mechanic,” Dylan teased, and he smiled softly, looking away. 

“Didn’t know you were related to the Kazmarek twins,” Kylo murmured. 

“What? Oh, yeah. You know Britain, obviously. Jake is with Solus and the Gray Jedi. But they can’t know I’m alive. It would....  _ Complicate _ things.” She finished scrubbing her hands on the towel and set it on the workbench, jumping up beside it. “You aren’t as scary as the First Order propaganda made you seem.” 

“I used to be like that,” he murmured, pouring a glass of whiskey, sipping at it. 

“I find that hard to believe,” Dylan chirped, and then shrugged. “But I’m not the best judge, and I’m most definitely not your jury or executioner.” 

Kylo nodded, leaning up against the bench beside the girl. “So who ordered you to kill me?” 

“Solus. Said if she couldn’t do it, she wanted me to. Something about a falling-out you two had. Almost cost her her life apparently. I don’t know much about it, I wasn’t really planning on following through with that order anyway. I was there to get my training and to move on into the Republic’s army.” Dylan shrugged, jumping off the bench and retrieving the bottle of whiskey, returning to her spot beside Kylo. She popped off the cap and took a large swig, grimacing and coughing a little. “Shit. Didn’t know the old man had kept such strong stuff.”

“Aren’t you nineteen?” Kylo asked, sitting on the bench and taking away the bottle, the purple-haired freak glaring at him begrudgingly. 

“Yes. But.... I’ve been this way for a while. I don’t understand. It’s like the Force just.... Stopped letting me age.” She shrugged. “I thought nothing of it, to be honest. More time to serve under Leia Organa, fight the oppression, restore the balance Anakin brought with his death. You know, the prophecy. But I wasn’t accepted, so I applied to the Academy. Rejected there too. Finally I just.... Gave up. Joined Solus in our bounty-hunter missions. It was fun. Then I met Lilliana, and she said she needed protection from the First Order. Her friend Deirdre was with them and fucking shit up, needed to make sure she was safe. She couldn’t pay me but I would have a roof over my head, warm food every day, and free reign of pretty much everything else. It was nice. We became friends. I stayed when my contract was up and we’ve been together ever since.” 

Kylo nodded, and then took a breath. How much did he really want to tell this girl, friend or foe? Finally, he made up his mind, and then began to speak. “When I was your age, I was still seeking revenge for my family never... understanding. I was five when the first signs of the Force came. Scared the hell out of my mother. She refused to look at me for a while; my father didn’t fully understand the Force anyway. He wasn’t sensitive like my mother was. My uncle saw nothing but darkness in me, so I grew to see myself that way too. And I fell from the light, I joined the First Order and Snoke and became the most feared Force-user in the galaxy, and then one doctor did what my family couldn’t: she saw right through everything, saw the light, and brought me out of the dark.” 

“I know. I met her. She’s a very, very kind woman. She’s grown.” Dylan paused. “I think she would want you to know that everyone you hate is sixty-five percent water, and everyone you love is made of stardust. And I know better than anyone that your nightmares keep you from sleeping and that they plague you in your day to day life, causing panic attacks and anxiety attacks. I feel them every time you have one. You’ve worn yourself down to the point where you have nothing, but nothing is infinite, not ever loss. You are made of the sea, and the stars, and I promise you, Kylo Ren or Ben Solo or whoever you are,  _ you will find yourself again.” _

Kylo paused. It was a stunning turn of events, something so unknown to this troubled child, and yet, here she was, spouting enough poetry to make him understand. Before he could reply, Dylan turned her head, staring out across the shed. “Oh, dear. All the times I’ve rearranged time really does show, doesn’t it? How long have you been with us?” 

“Six months?” 

Dylan paused, gray eyes focusing on something he couldn’t see. Her silence was deafening, and he knew there was no point looking into her mind. Her walls were so thick that no one would ever break through, probably not even Snoke. Oh, if that man knew where he was now.... All hell would break loose, right here on this little moon. “Kylo.... Do you feel it?” 

“What?” 

She jumped off the bench, reaching for something that should be there. Grasping at the hollow of her throat, she realized that it wasn’t there, and swore under her breath. “Of course it’s not there, right when I need it.” 

Kylo watched her look around the shed, and then reached up and unclasped the necklace. “Looking for this?” 

She whirled, and then snatched it from her hand. “Yeah. Thanks. My, uh, my mother gave this to me. Before Britain killed her, you know. It....” she paused. “I feel her in this. I feel her Gray Jedi beliefs, I feel her calming presence. She was a wonderful person.” She clasped it around her neck, visibly relaxing. “You need to go get battle-ready, Kylo Ren. It looks like your girlfriend is bringing the fight to us.” 

She ran off inside, and Kylo picked at a bracelet you’d made him so long ago, one that had seemed so unimportant at the time but now was his only attachment to you. He brushed the silver charm, a wolf, and smiled. He understood  _ that _ completely. 

_ You are my lone wolf, my loner. But I love you all the same. _

A smile graced his face, and he went to prepare for the battle.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

_ Phasma sat, staring at the sunrise  _ in a tanktop and her underwear, bites and scratches from Amena the night before bright red and stinging still. Water dripped from the blonde’s short hair, and she sipped at a cup of coffee, trying to wish the instinct that there was a battle on the horizon wasn’t there, that this wasn’t happening. 

“I told you they would come, over a year ago,” Zhou growled behind her. She had heard him enter, but failed to move to greet him or welcome him in any way. Clearly, he wasn’t looking for pleasantries either. Phamsa truly liked that about Zhou. No nonsense, just results.

The general simply sighed, not in the mood for his game of ‘I told you so’ that day. “Perhaps you did.” 

“That  _ doctor _ is not to be trusted, Phasma. You know that as well as I,” he hissed, and the general shrugged.

“And what would you have me do about it, Commander?” Phasma growled, her voice tense. “Surely you don’t intend on doing nothing.” 

“Mount a defense. These are simple forces, flying unmarked ships. I doubt they’re any good at fighting and it’ll be solved by noon,” Zhou affirmed, his dark hair slicked back. 

Phasma rose to her full 6’3 height, staring down the shorter man. He squirmed under her steely gaze, despite him being in full armor and the general herself only in her nightclothes. “You know as well as I that those few unmarked ships are actually going to be full of Force-sensitive Gray Jedi, trained by one of Snoke’s former apprentices and the twin of one of the former Knights of Ren. We are  _ doomed _ , Zhou. Don’t try to deny that. You know it as well as I--”

“Phasma, love?” Amena sleepily called from the bedroom. “Is everything alright?” 

“No, love. Zhou is here with terrible news,” she called back, and Amena sauntered out with her hair bound by a scarf and in one of Phasma’s shirts. 

“What is it?” She asked, and Zhou looked to Phasma for permission to speak. The blonde waved her hand and nodded, allowing the tan general to continue. 

“Your friend and Kylo Ren’s former lover has launched a battle here on Nymous,” Zhou growled. “I’m seeking permission to hunt her down like the animalistic traitor she is.” 

“Absolutely  _ not, _ ” Phasma snarled, cutting off Amena. “She is our ally. She is here--” 

Zhou’s face turned as he cut off his general, snarling, “ _ She has led them to our doorstep! _ ” 

The room went silent, Amena looking at Zhou with wide eyes as Phasma tensed, her gray eyes narrowing. “Do  _ not _ raise your voice at me, especially when Doctor Amena Sayeed is in the room with us. Do not disrespect me, and do not disrespect her.” Phasma took a breath, centering herself, and waited for a reply. 

It came after a moment of silence, but the commander was much gentler about it, his voice softer and not as harsh. “I’m not one of your mindless troopers, General. I am a human, a commander, and first and foremost, a Sith. I cannot stand by and let these wannabe Jedi threaten my enterprise.” 

“This is  _ my  _ army, General,  _ my _ First Order. General Hux is not here to describe for you what to do, nor is Snoke, nor is Kylo. It is me you report to, and me alone. And I say no.” 

“Phasma,” Amena breathed, grasping her lover’s arm. “He’s right. If she is now a threat, we should not treat her any different than we’ve treated anyone else. Even with that former Trooper, the defective one, that we have in custody-- he doesn’t deserve any better treatment than her. She is a threat.” 

“ _ FN-2187 _ was an excellent trooper and one of the best I ever had,” Phasma breathed. “The doctor was a close friend of mine too, Amena, and I am not like you. I cannot, in good conscience, let her be hunted like an animal.” 

“Then let me capture her and bring her in,” Zhou begged, black eyes wide with hope. 

Phasma looked from him to Amena, who nodded. “I find it a fair solution. There is not much else I can ask for, really, Phasma. I only wish for her to return to us, that we can have her on the side that she was always meant to be.” 

Phasma eyed her girlfriend, not entirely sure what to say. “In all honesty, my love, she is one woman. I doubt she can do any harm herself.” 

“It is not her I am worried about,” Zhou growled. “But capturing her, turning her-- that would change the course of this entire war, or what’s left of it.” 

Phasma sighed, sitting down in her chair again and burying her face in her hands.  _ What do you do when you’re caught between a rock and a hard place? _ She asked herself, and then stared at the table for a moment, contemplating. “What benefit will the doctor’s capture play in the entire grand scheme of the First Order, Zhou?” 

The man stroked his chin, and then replied, “She would provide Snoke more access. More information if properly turned. I cannot say for certain what she will do, though.” 

Amena gripped Phasma’s hand, and the woman sighed, gray eyes flicking from her dark-skinned lover to the man who stood between Phasma and the rest of the galaxy. “Do what you must, Commander Zhou. But if you harm her,” she threatened, “I will own you like a fucking dog, and you will be  _ severely _ punished. Am I understood?”

Zhou paled a little bit, and then nodded. “I do.” 

“Then go. May the Force be with you, Commander,” the blonde added, and the retreating Sith smiled, taking a pause at the door before exiting.

“And with you, General,” he smiled, exiting the bunker. 

Phasma let out a shaky breath, and Amena smiled, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You made the right choice, Phasma.” 

The general shook off her lover’s hand. “Any harm that befalls her will be on yours and Zhou’s hands. I do not condone this,” she hissed, stalking off to put on some pants and begin her daily duties of trying to make sure this entire damned order didn’t fall into total chaos.

\------------------------------------------------

_ Finn fucked up. _

He knew he did. He knew he fucked up the moment he left D’Qar without telling anyone. But he  _ had _ to do this. What was he doing exactly? He wasn’t sure. 

Now he was sitting in a cell on Crescent Base, somewhere on the same moon as Nymous Outpost, and knowing full well that he had royally fucked up. Poe was going to  _ kill _ him--that is, if the damn First Order didn’t first. Finn stared up at the ceiling, the durasteel panels somehow dirtier than the floor. The cot he lay on was filthy, worse than any prison the man had been in. Even with punishment from Phasma, he had never been here. 

The door clicked open, and in stepped the queen bitch herself, helmet in her hands. 

“What, came to recondition me? Wipe me clean and start over?” Finn snapped, glaring at her. 

Phasma flinched; he took some joy in seeing the face of the woman he once looked up to and admired, especially now knowing that she suffered because of him. “That is not what I wish for you, FN-- Finn.” 

Finn paused. Did she just.... Call him Finn? 

He sat up on his cot, flight jacket filthy. “Captain Phasma, I don’t believe the Resistance would care--”

“Just shut up and listen to me,” Phasma snarked, and, shocked, Finn stared at her in compliance. “When I joined the First Order, all I wanted was to bring order to the galaxy. The Resistance, you, Organa, even that shithole of a Sith called Kylo Ren-- you all got in my way, and I was prepared to destroy each and every one of you. Now,” the blonde affirmed, holding her helmet in her hands, “I have sent another after my beloved friend, in hopes of bringing her back, though I know she won’t come. I have done my best to run this order, but you’ve won this fight. The Resistance has won.” 

Her voice was so soft, so gentle. Finn was shocked, staring at her with an open mouth. “I threw you in a trash compactor and this is what I receive?” 

“Take it or leave it, Rebel scum,” she spat. “You are not my friend. This is simply a surrender, unofficial.” 

_ A surrender? _ Finn asked himself, looking confused. “I’m not following.” 

Phasma sighed, her chromium armor glinting even in the dim light. “Your friends are coming for you, Finn. All of them. We estimate there are at least fifty high-level Gray Jedi flying towards us, estimated arrival to be in the next few hours. The past years have been rough.” 

Had it been years? It didn’t feel like it. It felt like months, maybe, but the events in the days leading up to Starkiller were so clear to him, so crystal-cut as if it were made of diamond. Your face was ingrained in his memory, but with a completely different annotation than Phasma’s version of you. All of the things he said and did, the facial expression of Kylo Ren as he took the life of the only father Finn had ever known, the only father Rey had ever known. That moment made you and him enemies, as if you were going to take the first friend he’d ever had too, the friend he found in Rey, or the only romantic relationship he’d ever had with Poe. But this broken,  _ massive _ woman in front of him saw you otherwise. She saw someone who comforted the most terrifying man in the galaxy, who sang lullabies to him when his nightmares left him a sweating, skittish, terrified mess. She saw someone who had not only allowed but encouraged the relationship between her and Amena to grow and flourish, someone who just wanted to help people. You didn’t anything from her; no, you left to be your own person, do your own thing, and she respected that. So did Finn. 

“So you’re not going to kill me?” Finn asked her. 

Phasma bit her lip, shaking her head. “What’s the point? Finn, you were the best Trooper I ever trained. I was--no, I am proud of you. You have done amazing military feats in your time with the Resistance. I respect that.” 

Finn stood, stunned, and nodded. “So.... what next?” 

The blonde smiled at him. “I thought you didn’t take orders from me anymore?” 

Finn was about to reply when the door was banged on, causing both to jump out of their skins. “General! They’ve hit the atmosphere; they’ll be on us in less than an hour.” 

Phasma nodded. “Alert the troops. Have everyone at my stations. Tell Zhou that he is to do only as we agreed and nothing more.” She shoved the helmet on her head, and Finn stared at her, confused. 

“I thought you were surrendering?” 

“I thought you were far less gullible than that,” Phasma snarked, and darted out of the room, snatching her blaster from one of the troopers at the door. “Maybe your friend the doctor will join you in here in the coming hours, left to perish. Wonder who will win  _ that _ battle, eh?” 

With that, she ran down the hall, barking orders at her troops and letting the door be slammed in Finn’s face. 

Great. Just great.

\--------------------------------------------------

_ “And remember who you are, Solus.” _

Luke Skywalker’s words will still fresh in her ears, especially as she looked out over the moon they were beginning to descend into. You were a mess, up in the cockpit by Poe. His fuming anger kept you quiet, though, he kept you grounded; not much else Solus could ask for you anyway. Jake was on another ship, barely keeping his antsy troops together; Solus could feel his anger from here. Mentally, you were a freak show, well aware whom it was who waited on the surface for your arrival. Externally, you kept it together. 

Solus, though, was in a far better shape. 

As she looked out of the window of the ship, down at the moon, she knew he was down there. Kylo Ren was down there. She could feel him, but for whatever reason, Solus knew that whatever he had to do still had not yet transpired. His fear was not directed at what was coming for him, but at what he was capable of doing when it got there. 

Solus kept a tight grip on the black box before her, her knuckles almost turning white. Her entire body shook, her breath short; not in a very, very, very long time she had used or even seen these. The ancient Gray Jedi logo was emblazoned on the front of the container, the locks tarnished silver. 

You poked your head in suddenly, smiling. “Hey, Solus. You alright?” 

She cracked a fearless smile, shoving all her anxieties back. “Perfect, Xavier. Remember your techniques and you’re golden.” 

You nodded, leaving the room after that. 

Solus immediately turned her violet eyes to the box before her, the silver hinges tarnished and dull. Her thumb found the latch, an oh-so gentle feeling, and flicked it up, her hands shaking as she opened the lid. 

Two sabers sat nestled on blue velvet inside, the Gray Jedi logo emblazoned on the sides of them. She’d remembered that Luke had done that, before she was Solus, but after her life with the Skywalker was over. 

“General,” Poe called over the intercom. 

“Yes?” She answered, snapping the lid shut. 

“Skywalker and his padawan are here, requesting permission to dock. Allow?” 

“Of course, go ahead. When they are docked, immediately send him to me.” She paused, studying the lid. “Leave the girl with Xavier, though. I must speak with Skywalker on my own.” 

“Of course, General.” Poe cut the connection, leaving the former captain on her own. 

She sat there in silence as Luke was rushed to her, the old Jedi looking concerned for his old padawan. “You sent for me?” He asked, his brows furrowed and voice hoarse. He looked like he’d gone through hell; his hair was long and his beard was unkempt, unruly. It was not like him. 

“I can’t do this,” she croaked, staring at the box. “It’s my old life. Something I signed away, a long, long,  _ long  _ time ago.” 

“You have to, Solus. I can’t help you with this.” Luke went to go out the door, and then Solus’s voice stopped him. 

“Master,” she sniffed, her voice cracking, “I can’t do this alone.” 

Luke paused, stiffening at the sound of her calling him master-- but he knew whom it was he was truly speaking to. “Solus,” he smiled, “my padawan, you were never alone. I was with you, even after you left. I was with you.” 

Solus nodded, swallowing her nerves and steadying her racing heartbeat. “He speaks to her, you know.” 

“Who does?” Luke asked, sitting down across from Solus. 

“Anakin. You know he always spoke to me, but.... Yeah. He speaks to her. He.... He drags her to the dark, as if her own ambition doesn’t do that enough.” Solus sighed, finding herself in her words. “Are you sure you want to be here?” 

“Oh, I’m not battle-ready,” Luke laughed, his carefree smile relaxing the Gray Jedi further. “I’m far too out of practice. Maybe after all this is over, you and Rey can get me back into the condition from when I was Rey’s age, eh?” 

Solus snorted. “There’s no hope for that, old man.” 

“Hey, who you callin’ old man?” Luke snapped back, but it wasn’t anything malicious. His smile reached his blue eyes, and the graying blonde seemed to be as carefree as possible. “Good luck, little one. You will do well, and you will bring good things to your cause. I believe in you,” he promised, and then left the room. 

Solus turned her attention from the door where Luke had left to the box in her lap still. She sighed, taking a breath, and opened it, gulping a little before swallowing her fear and anxiety, picking up the two silver-hilted sabers and the dual-edge attachment, quickly assembling it with experienced technique, each piece popping and clicking into place. . She stood there, staring at it in the blue velvet of the box, and then shook her head, grabbing it and jumping out into the cockpit, saber in hand. 

“Solus!” You smiled, trying to hide the anxiety in a front she saw right through. 

Rey looked from you to Solus, who nodded curtly at the woman. “Rey. It’s good to see you doing so well after Starkiller a few years ago.” 

“And I see you’ve recovered.” 

“More or less,” Solus smiled. She nodded to the silver saber hanging from the padawan’s belt. “I see you’ve got yourself a new saber.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Rey grinned, unlatching it and admiring it. “Luke said that it was made for me when I was a youngling.” 

“That it was. I made it, for you,” Solus smiled, clapping her on the shoulder. “I analyzed the way you behaved for three weeks, and I crafted a saber to match my prediction of you when you were old enough to wield it. Does it work well? I hope it does. Not many people got to use the sabers I made for them, so I’m curious.” 

Rey gave Solus a strange look, but nodded. “Perfectly. I’ve never known a weapon better-suited. You’re an excellent craftsman, Solus.” 

She smiled at the ground. “Don’t feed my ego, not so soon as to what may be our demise. Poe, take us down, send the signal. Keep an eye out for Kylo Ren, General Hux, and Acting General Phasma. We are to capture them alive,  _ unharmed. _ Is that understood?”

“Yes General!” the Grays aboard the ship confirmed, and Solus cracked a smile, rolling her shoulders. 

“Oh, how  _ good _ it feels to be back in control.” She turned to you, a curt nod. “Samson will meet us on the surface. He had business to conduct in the outpost. Rey, stay close to her. Find Finn.”

You nodded, and went to strap yourself in. Solus stayed, watching you fade into the distance, and then to Rey, said, “Kylo Ren is on that surface. Stay close to her, make sure she doesn’t get distracted. I don’t know what side that monster is on.” 

Rey nodded, and then paused. “General?”

“Yes?” 

“The scar on your back.... How did you get it?” 

The black-haired Gray paused, biting her lip, and then fixed her companion a violet gaze. “I got it protecting you from Kylo Ren.” 

Solus left, barking orders and leaving a stunned Rey to gawk after her, Luke watching from afar with a horrible sense of foreboding in the air. This entire mission is very easily going to go to shit, even with Solus’s careful planning. 

_ Father, _ Rey sniffed, her eyes wide as she looked at her master from over the ship.  _ I thought you said my sister is dead? _

Luke looked at Solus, her asymmetrical haircut mirroring her strengths. She was leaning over a female Gray and her friend, his brown eyes looking up at Solus with a bit of fear, but with the determination of a thousand men. Something wasn’t right about him. His friend nudged his elbow after Solus left, and the short-haired girl looked at him with fear and confusion. He shook his head, gripping her hand and getting up and walking away.

Luke turned his attention back to Rey, and then said,  _ Minerva is dead. Solus now lives in her place. I did not lie to you, Rey. Your sister  _ **_is_ ** _ dead. Her body, legacy, and mentality still lives on. Tread lightly when around her, little one; she is more dangerous than she knows. _

Rey nodded, unlatching her saber and spinning the hilt in her hand. If today was the day she died, so be it. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

_ Britain Kazmarek looked up with wide  _ eyes at Supreme Leader Snoke, watching carefully as he saw Hux out of the corner of his eye pale even further than his natural tone. 

“In the last  _ seven months, _ ” Snoke hissed out, “you have not found a single  _ scrap _ as to where Kylo Ren might be?” 

Hux shook his head, gulping. Britain narrowed his eyes, watching the general’s face drain of any color. 

Snoke sat in silence, eyes narrowed. Hux’s eyes bulged out of his head as he grabbed at his neck, an invisible hand cutting the breath out of him. “You are  _ disgusting, _ ” Snoke hissed out, his voice growling as Hux gasped for air, fingers clawing at his throat and feet scrabbling for a purchase in the air. 

When Hux was released, he collapsed into the ground, groaning and coughing for air. Britain looked on with a blank look, as if the entire situation was completely foreign to him. He knelt at the feet of the Sith Lord, heart and mind finally still from the chaos that had evolved in it. 

Britain Kazmarek had made his choice. 

Snoke looked at Hux, voice dripping with malice. “Get out of my sight, pitiful  _ human. _ ” 

He turned his attention to the curly-haired blond at his feet, who was waiting for instruction like an obedient child. “You, my son...” Snoke cooed, his voice much more gentle as Hux scrambled from the room, much like a kicked dog. “You are my next student. But first.... I need you to do something.” 

“Anything, Master,” Britain breathed, eyes wide with awe. 

“Good, good.” Snoke looked down with a smirk upon his face, eyes searching as he tore down Britain’s walls and dove into his head, searching for the perfect torture. “I need you to fetch me Kylo Ren. But also, I need your brother’s head. Alive or otherwise, it doesn’t matter. Capture your brother first; it will aid you in your struggle for Ren. Twins are always so wonderfully dynamic together,” he crooned, and then added, “but if you must, kill your brother. Do not hesitate if he does not comply.” 

Britain nodded, and rose to his feet on command. “As you wish, Master.” 

“Good.... Dismissed.” 

Britain strode out of the room, holding back tears. For all the shit he put his brother through, for all the hell Jake had given him, Britain knew there was no way in hell he could turn his brother, let alone  _ kill  _ him. As Britain shoved his staff in his cloak, he steeled his resolve, knowing full well he was walking to his death. 

Snoke felt the boy’s indecision, but knew he was fully prepared to make the sacrifice necessary. He sighed, leaning back in his throne to rest his weary bones. The third one these past few decades, he observed.  _ Weakness in the Force, _ he grumbled, and then his hologram faded from existence. 

Britain shoved his things into a bag, nodding. Indeed, his choice had been made. 

It was time to come home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys. Welcome to where the shit hits the fan, and the next chapter is going to be like, 9k+. The next chapter (chapter twelve) will officially put us at over sixty THOUSAND words. How bout them apples?  
> Also, yeah, people die next chapter. Have fun with that.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of battle, everything seems different. Different enough to make you a different person, struggling to capture the remainder of the First Order and in enough of a time frame to make it out alive. Kylo Ren thinks the same thing; but can he save you, or will he condemn you? In the wake of the battle, will you change, or will you stay the same?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Brandon T. Mathenia, my dear friend who passed this last April. May the stars watch over you, old friend.   
> ( August 5, 1998 - April 21, 2016 )

_ You looked out over the moon, _ knowing he was down there. 

As Poe made the final descent, you gripped the white leather hilt with a vice-like hand, Luke Skywalker watching you with a weary gaze. You didn’t meet it; you were too worried about Kylo. He was down there, and you were sure of it. You could feel him, stronger than you have in the past two years. The silent tension in the pinnacle-class ship was tense, with thoughts running rampant and muscles being worked loose. But the tension all remained, with flicking eyes and pressed lips; who would live, who would die? Was it your neighbor, or your brother? The person you wished to be trampled by a herd of stars-know-what, or your best friend? 

And that was where the tension was. 

Luke sat beside you, and you immediately tensed. You didn’t know how he would react to meeting the woman who was willing to tear apart an entire galaxy to get her boyfriend back-- the same man who wanted to tear apart the Jedi Order and what remained of it. 

“I can sense your fear, young one,” he smiled, patting your hand. 

“He’s down there, Luke. I can find him. I can protect him now,” you murmured, not removing your gaze from the port. 

Luke sighed. “Solus said the same thing before the shit hit the fan, dearest doctor. She is determined to not only resurrect the Gray Jedi line but to destroy the Sith once and for all. That means completely destroying the First Order, and killing anyone who will continue the teaching she’s trying to destroy.” 

“Is that what this is? Why she’s training me? Not to get Kylo back, but to destroy the person I love?” You demanded, looking at Luke with sharp eyes and anger in your voice. 

“I cannot say. She is stronger than I will ever understand, in ways I cannot understand. Her anger and desire for your lover’s blood will probably cloud her judgement.” Luke shrugged, adjusting his talberd, the cape falling into place around his shoulders. “My....  _ nephew _ did well when he found you. I have sensed his change, his belief in you and that he will find you. However.... You need to understand the consequences of your presence with him now. You belong to him in his mind, and he will die protecting you if need be--even if that means killing himself so you can be safe.”

You looked at Luke as you hit the atmosphere, the burning red around the ship in a cosmic firestorm. “What do you mean?” 

Luke only shook his head. “Tell him that regretting what he has done is pointless. He did what he did for a reason, and even if it’s a dumb-ass decision, it was one he made and saw through. That’s respectable.” 

He stood and left, going over to chat with Rey whose eyes kept flicking back and forth to you. She seemed to be concerned in a way, her eyes wide and watchful. Her gray Jedi attire, the cloak and tank, seemed to billow as you plummeted down towards the surface. The Elites stood and unlatched themselves as you made landfall, your mind immediately joining with Jake’s.  _ Hello, _ he murmured, his calm mind soothing your nerves. 

_ Hello, _ you croaked back, watching as the Elite slunk off the ships into the green underbrush of the forest moon. 

You gulped, gripping your saber and shaking like a leaf in your seat. Solus squatted before you, her violet eyes tense. “Listen here, Xavier. I just sent my men out there into certain danger, and if you can’t do your job, this will fall apart. I’m not calling retreat. Either you go out there, do your job, and get this over with, or we all die. Those are our options here, Doctor.” 

You  met Solus’s sharp violet gaze, took a breath, and nodded, slowly unlatching yourself as you popped your shoulders into place. “Alright.” You took a breath, centering yourself, and then stood, opening your eyes and looking out with a new determination. “Solus, left flank. Rey, my right. Let’s go bring down what’s left of the First Order.” 

Solus flashed you a smile as the three of you slunk off into the underbrush, leaving a rather concerned Luke Skywalker behind on the shuttle with Poe Dameron. Poe went to follow, blaster in hand, but Luke caught him by the back of his flight jacket. “Not yet, son.” 

“My boyfriend is being held  _ captive _ and I am not about to sit here and wait for Solus to do her job!” Poe swatted away Luke’s hand, but didn’t move. The old Skywalker rolled his eyes. “Oh, child, rest your mind. You’re not thinking clearly. It will distract you from the true goal.” 

“ _ My goal _ is to bring Finn home,  _ alive, _ ” the dark-haired pilot snarled, brown eyes alit with a fire so like the kind Luke himself once shared. The old Jedi took a breath, and distanced himself further from the situation.  

“No, that’s your objective. Your goal is to bring down as much of the First Order as possible.” 

“They’ll all burn, trust me,” Poe snarled, and Luke nodded, not disbelieving him for a second. 

“Go. And watch yourself, Poe Dameron. You are important.” 

Poe nodded, thundering off into the brush. Luke watched him go, and then stared off into the distance before dropping his cloak on the floor of the ship, drawing his father’s saber.  _ I remember you, Father. And I am still with you, as you are with me. I’m getting my nephew back, one way or another.  _

The old Jedi simply sighed, stepping out into the sunlight. His saber was tight in his hand, the blue beam glinting in the light. He would come to him. It was the family way. 

\-----------------------------

_ Kylo gripped the teal saber in  _ an iron vice, his knuckles almost white as he watched you lead the scavenger -- his  _ cousin _ \-- and another woman, dark-haired and vengeance on her tongue, into battle, your gold saber pulled tight into you. His new gray robes hung from his shoulders in an elegant display over his black tunic and trousers, the wraps that had protected his arms gone, leaving pale skin there. Lilliana was beside him, her wheelchair locked into position. “I haven’t used that thing in years,” she smiled, and Kylo hummed in response. Lilliana turned her attention elsewhere, her brown clothing complementing the fiery red curly mess that showed of her hair. As of late, the woman had worn her scarf less and less around him. He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Dylan crouched on the other side of him, her purple hair tied up atop her head in a knot-like bun. Her brown and green clothes would mask her in the forest far better than Kylo’s clothing; but he wasn’t worried about being seen. If he was, he would have left this moon and left you and everyone else to fend for yourselves. Her gray eyes surveyed the land, seemingly shifting colors depending on what she was looking at. She clambered atop the railing on the roof, searching from her heightened vantage point. Lilliana adjusted her headscarf, humming to herself. 

Your presence was so strong now. Anyone who knew the Force could feel you. Kylo bit the inside of his lip, Dylan’s white saber cutting the air with the scent of ozone and a gentle hum. The shaved side of her freshly-dyed head was facing Kylo, her hair pulled away from her face. Whatever this girl’s talent was, she was phenomenal. 

“The doctor is heading point. Rey and Solus are following, each on flank. Six Gray Jedi are behind them. Liberty Fyter is leading an entire squadron to the west.” She went to give the next direction, and her voice caught. She pushed through it, saying, “Jake Kazmarek is leading another squadron to the east. Samson Rosentreter is inbound, on a speeder. All are heading south.” 

Kylo nodded, cracking his knuckles and sighing. “Alright. What about the First Order?” 

“Phasma is leading a defensive strategy inside the base. She has a Knight of Ren with her.... I can’t make out who he is. He’s.... Blocking my reception. Finn is in there. Commander Zhou....” Dylan swore under her breath. “Commander Zhou is headed right for the doctor.” 

“What?” Kylo breathed, almost snapping at her. If she was in danger.... 

“No. He isn’t. He’s following. Evaluating. He’s not striking now, but soon. When they think they’ve won,” Dylan corrected, her sentences more notes to herself than anything else. She stood on the rail, brown leather jacket and camouflaged green skin-tight trousers stunning against the blue sky. 

That wasn’t any solace to Kylo. But he moved on, nodding. “When do we strike?” 

“Really, Kylo. I figured you’d stopped taking orders, especially from a nineteen year old girl,” Dylan snarked, not facing the former Sith.

“Shut up, and give me the damn orders,” Kylo hissed, glaring at her. 

She smirked, adjusting her position on the rail. “Get up here.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Just do it, Ren,” she sighed, exasperated. 

He clambered up beside her, and he looked down over the edge to see the straight drop to the water fifty feet below. Kylo tucked hair behind his ear; he missed his helmet in times like these. At least he never had to worry about hair in his face. Dylan grinned from ear to ear. “When I tell you, jump.” 

“Dylan, I don’t think that’s--” 

“Now!” She leapt from the edge, and Kylo followed close behind her, feeling the weightlessness take over his body. He relaxed into it, his eyes closed. He landed on something, and he tucked and rolled on instinct, Dylan catching the back of his cloak as he threatened to roll off the platform. He looked off the edge of the waterspeeder, water spraying up in his face.

She shrugged at his questioning stare, her leather flight jacket flapping in the breeze as she looked for their stop. A sandy beach soon came into vision, and Dylan directed the speeder towards the beach. The sounds of battle grew louder on Kylo’s ears as he sensed it grow closer. He was anxious, and Dylan knew it. “Go on. Try to protect her. And then do whatever you need to do,” the purple-haired girl murmured, tethering the speeder to the stone outcropping. 

“And you?” he asked, and she shook her head. 

“This is where I am needed. I may never see you again, Kylo Ren, so know that it has been quite interesting having you here with us these past months.” She dusted off her hands on her pants, and then walked towards him. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Kylo hissed, and Dylan shushed him with a finger, eyes searching his. 

“This is where I must depart, Ben. Do not worry,  for I will see you eventually. You may not see me, but I’ll be there. So long, Solo. Protect that woman.” 

Dylan darted off into the shadows, her Force signature cloaked so well even Kylo could not trace her. He stared, stunned, after her, and then heard: “So, it’s Ben Solo now, eh?” 

Kylo looked up, eyes narrowed. “Depends on who’s asking,” he snarled, and then a blonde stood atop the cliff, ten feet in the air. He looked like Britain, but that chaos was not in his soul, and the man carried a purple saber and a blue. 

“Lieutenant Jake Kazmarek, at your service. Well, not really. I don’t take orders from psychopaths. But your girlfriend, I take orders from her. And your mother. So, you know. I just take orders from the family of psychopaths.” 

“Your brother didn’t say that three years ago,” Kylo hissed out, and Jake snarled, baring his teeth. 

“ _ Britain killed my entire family at your word! _ ” He snapped out, looking as if he was prepared to jump and slice the former Sith down where he stood. “You’re lucky you’re Xavier’s boyfriend. If you were  _ anyone _ else, I would deliver your head on a silver platter to the New Republic and cheer as they cheer at the death of the menace of the galaxy.” 

Kylo flinched at the loathing in his words. Another voice came from atop the cliff, another male. His curly dark hair secured behind him in a ponytail, his voice was hushed to the point where even Kylo’s heightened senses couldn’t pick it up. The man’s dark skin contrasted the blonde’s pale, and then he sighed, pressing a kiss to the cheek of Jake before departing. 

“Enjoy the battle, asswipe. I’ll have my shot at you in due time,” Jake snarled, sulking back away from the edge of the cliff.  Kylo rolled his shoulders, flipped the gray hood up, engaged the borrowed teal saber, and darted into battle, vengeance on his mind and your name on his lips. He swore to protect you in that moment, and nothing could stop him. 

\-------------------------

You crouched behind a bush, watching the shift change come and go. You twitched with every second, waiting for the cue. Solus was waiting for the perfect time, and when you sprung into action, all the adrenaline hit you like a train. Your heart rate increased, breathing became laborious, and a grin cut across your face. You loved the feeling. 

Footsteps heavy as you, Rey, and Solus charged into the compound, Solus cutting down everyone in her way and Rey simply knocking them aside, allowing you to track down Finn. 

You darted around the familiar halls of Crescent Base,  _ alone, _ looking for the right hallway. A familiar voice shouting caught your attention, and you darted down a hallway to see Amena trying to drag a screaming Talia away from her lab. Solus pulled up beside you, Rey on the other. You held your hand up, telling them to stay in position.

“Talia, we have to go.  _ Now! _ ” Amena snapped, and you stood behind a corner, watching curiously. 

“But the brains! I can’t leave them!” Talia hissed, vibroblade in hand, determined to defend herself. 

_ Oh my stars, _ Solus groaned.  _ They’re just brains, woman! _

_ One of these days, I’ll let Talia Minoross explain to you why her precious brains are so important, _ you snarked, and Rey grinned. 

“Just  _ move it!” _ Amena hissed, trying to drag her away. 

An Elite tried to slip into her lab, probably to check if anyone else was in it, and Talia shrieked, attempting to slice at the girl. You raised your hand and the girl was forced into the room, the door slamming shut, and the vibroblade went flying against the opposite wall. Amena froze, searching for who had done such a thing, and you stepped out of the shadows, Solus trying to grab you to keep you there. 

“ _ You _ ,” Amena hissed, and you nodded sadly. 

“Me,” you murmured. “Where’s Finn?” Amena stubbornly glared at you, eyes fuming. Talia hid behind her, her eyes narrowed at you. You took a step closer. “Where’s Finn, Amena? He’s the only one I want.” 

“You won’t get to him in time,” Amena hissed. “Phasma has him set for execution.”

“ _ Where, _ Amena? Where?” You demanded, and she smirked at you. 

“What are you going to do,  _ Doctor? _ Kill me? How apt an ending to our friendship,” she sneered. 

“Our friendship has not yet ended, Amena, and I did not come to kill anyone today. I came for Finn.” You raised a hand, gently placing it on her forehead. “Just relax.” 

You dove into her head, bypassing every wall she threw at you. You had gotten  _ too _ good at this. You sorted through memories, looking for only one in particular.  _ There you are.... _

With your information, you nodded. Solus appraoched you, eyes narrowed at Amena and Talia. “Commander?” She asked you, silently telling Rey to stay in place. 

“Everything is fine, General. Take these two. I’ll need them later,” you murmured, stepping aside. Solus bound their wrists with rope, placing protections around their wrists so it wouldn’t chafe. 

As Solus took them, Amena turned around and shouted, “You’re turning into the same monster Kylo was!” 

Solus froze, and you simply turned, a gentle smile on your face. “Oh, Amena,” you sighed, tilting your head. “If you only knew what I can do to you. What I’ve been taught.” 

“You’re a monster,” Talia hissed. 

“I am not, for I have not harmed anyone. Changed the tide, yes. Harmed?” You shook your head, shrugging. “I think not. I’ll see you in D’Qar.” 

You turned away as Amena and Talia hurled insults at you, your shoulders squared and lightsaber engaged. It must have been the look in your eyes as you walked down the hall, because the Troopers and Gray Jedi around you parted to watch you walk away, golden light from the saber casting rays of sunshine down around you and the people around you. On one side, there were the Gray, paling in the presence of you. On the other, it was the Troopers, who seemed skittish every time you looked at them. You felt powerful, like the adrenaline had simply turned into the Force and it was around you, thriving, in you, keeping you calm, addicted, craving the surge of power until a trooper stepped out in front of you, blaster raised. 

You fixed him a glare, and then everything moved in slow motion. With a push of your hand, you sent him flying back into the end of the hallway so hard it cracked his armor and shattered his spine. He slid down the wall, armor clattering to the floor with the sound of shattered plastic. You glared at him, and then walked into the execution room. 

Finn was standing in front of Phasma with a blaster in hand, who was shaking and yelling, blonde hair askew, hands behind her head. His eyes narrowed when he saw you. “Not a step closer or I’ll kill her!” he shouted. 

You tilted your head. “You don’t have it in you, Finn. Step aside.” 

“I swear. I’ll do it!” He snapped out, and you rolled your eyes.

“Finn,  _ step. Aside, _ ” You hissed out, glaring at him. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stepped aside, gasping for air as he’s trying to hold back tears.  You knelt in front of Phasma, calming her with a touch, and you looked her in her beautiful eyes. “Are you harmed?” 

She shook her head, and you nodded, standing. “Good.” 

Samson darted into the room, eyes wide. “I saw the trooper, I thought the worst--” 

“Arrest Acting General Phasma and let’s get out of here. We have who we came for,” you muttered. “Finn, my left.” 

“I don’t take orders from you,” he hissed, and Poe rushed in, looking flushed, sweat dripping down his forehead. His knuckles were bloody, lip split; a cut on his forehead bled bad enough to trickle down the side of his face, but it didn’t stop his sigh of relief. The curly-haired pilot jumped into his boyfriend’s arms, the two smiling as Samson arrested Phasma. The captain gave you a broken, beaten look, but this time you knew she wasn’t acting. She knew she’s lost. And you didn’t feel a pang of remorse for her. 

You walked out of the room, your stride long and elegant, saber engaged at your side. Troopers lay about the halls, dead or dying; many of them who had lived had since fled, or had been taken prisoner. Two Troopers came around the hall and stopped when they saw you, helmets off. One was a male, with long, black hair, and the other a dark-skinned girl with hair red enough you thought it was synthetic. You paused, feet set in this position, curly short hair blowing around your face. Then, the girl dropped her weapon, nudging the other to do the same. 

You looked at them, confused, and the girl slowly approached you until she was ten feet away. She sized you up, dark green eyes piercing and searching. “So you are the woman everyone spoke of on Starkiller.” 

You narrowed your eyes, gripping your saber a little tighter. “Depends who’s asking.” 

She nodded, curly hair bobbing about her. “Right, right. I am DE-9427, and this is my companion Zephyr Ren. We’re looking for another Knight, Carmine. Perhaps you know where she is?” 

You looked to the dark-skinned boy behind her, roughly your age. He sized you the same way you did him, but there was more understanding of who you were to him. Kylo had likely talked about you. Your eyes turned to the Trooper in front of you, and then you said, “I do not. Perhaps....” You turned, calling out, “Finn!” 

The Resistance fighter came alongside you, looking confused. “Yes?” 

“Do you know this girl?” You asked him. 

He nodded. “Of course. She and I were in training together for some time. In fact, I’ve been in contact with her. How have you been, Desiree?” 

She perked up, smiling at him. “I’ve been good, Finn! I didn’t mean to trip up your cover earlier. I’m sorry.” 

Finn shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m alive now. Thanks for sending Dylan; without that map and schematics, the Gray wouldn’t have gotten here in time. Thank you for your help.” 

“You mean to tell me you know Dylan and Lilliana?” You asked him, confused and a little angry. 

Finn smiled at the ground. “Doctor, I’ve been around a little bit more than you might think. But yes, I know them. Good people.” 

Solus finally came back to the growing group, and when Zephyr spotted her, he immediately reacted violently. His hand flew out, and just in time, Solus stepped out of range of his attack and struck him in the forehead, stunning him. He stumbled back, hissing. 

“Zephyr, I really don’t have time for this game,” Solus sighed, looking rather bored. She turned to you, nodding. “The sooner we can get back to the ships, the better.” 

Desiree knelt at her friend’s side, the man glaring daggers at her. “You traitor,” he hissed out, accent thick. 

Solus paused. “Did you  _ really _ think a scoundrel like me, following my adoptive father’s footsteps, would keep my word?” She hissed, kneeling down and grabbing him by the hair, her face only a foot from his. Desiree looked concerned, but with a wave of Zephyr’s hand, she stepped aside and allowed the situation to happen. Solus studied the man’s face. “Interesting, isn’t it? When you have to watch the people you love  _ die _ because of your actions?” 

“What about the people you love, Solus? Those you protect?” He spat at her face, and the Gray Jedi paused, slowly rising as she heard Rey approach. 

“I’ve already died to protect those I love. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. I do not fear death, Zephyr Ren. I  _ long _ for it.” She turned to Finn, Rey, and Poe, who had just joined the group, all looking pale in the face and slightly terrified. “See to it that these two are treated with the same care as Phasma and the two doctors. Dismissed.” 

The group dissipated around you, leaving Solus there beside you. “Your past never does stop biting you in the ass, does it?” Solus asked you. You shook your head, stuffing your saber in your pocket. 

“That it does not. We need to go, yes?” 

Solus nodded. “Yes we do.” 

You smiled, clapping her on the shoulder. “Then let’s go,” you murmured, the two of you leaving, almost hand in hand. 

\--------------------------------------------

_ Luke felt his fear before he _ arrived. 

Out of the bushes crept Kylo Ren, brandishing a gray cloak and no mask, unlike the First Order version of him. His face was silent, marred by the scar given him by Rey. Kylo’s lips parted to say something,  _ anything, _ but he closed them without saying a word. 

They stood like that for a moment, Kylo likely evaluating what the situation could be. The old Jedi had no weapon engaged, therefore it was likely not to be hostile. But Kylo still knew better. 

“Who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?” Kylo asked, his voice conveying more emotion than Luke thought he intended. 

“So this is what Kylo Ren has become,” Luke sighed, looking his nephew up and down. “Does your mother know?” 

“My mother would sooner have my head on a silver platter than to speak to the monster who used to be her son,” Kylo choked out, wiping away tears. “I’m sorry, Uncle. For everything.” 

Luke eyed his nephew, not entirely sure how to react to this. Ben had been far less.... Apologetic, but that was before everything went to shit. Before Ben became Kylo and Kylo became the monster of the galaxy. “Tell that to Han,” Luke finally spit out, and Kylo flinched as if Luke had struck him. 

“I was wrong,” Kylo breathed. “I made a very grave mistake, Uncle. I’m trying to make it right.” 

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, Kylo.” 

“Please don’t call me that. I’m not Kylo anymore,” he breathed out, not meeting his uncle’s eyes. 

Luke sighed, finally understanding. “Oh, by the Force. Ben, listen. She’s here. She’s falling. And I can’t save her, Ben. You have to.” 

Ben looked at his uncle, looking as if his entire world was just threatened. “She’s  _ here? _ And she’s  _ fighting _ ?” 

“Fighting for you, Ben. She needs you,” Luke sighed, brushing hair out of his eyes. 

Ben sat on the ground, clutching the silver-hilted saber like it was his lifeline. You flashed in his mind, and then, he heard your voice, shouting for help. Luke looked in the same directed he did, face paling. “Go,” Luke hissed.

Ben didn’t need to be told twice. He crashed through the underbrush, cloak billowing behind him, saber slashing through branches ahead of him as he struggled to get to you. 

You were pinned down, red saber at your throat. Solus was tossed against a tree like a rag doll, probably unconscious. Your eyes were wide and you were struggling against the weight of the Sith pinning you down. The man -- familiar to Kylo in stature -- was laughing, and you were kicking and hissing at him like a trapped bobcat. 

Ben leapt out of the brush like a lion, tackling the man and shouting at you to go. 

“Kylo?” you asked, voice hoarse and eyes confused. He could feel everything through the connection, now so  _ damn _ strong, and he nodded as he struggled with Zhou, a face so familiar. 

“Get out of here! Take your friend, get out of here!” He shouted again, and Zhou laughed, reaching towards you with the Force. Ben slammed his head against the ground, rendering him unconscious for a moment. 

You looked at him, eyes wide. “I’m not leaving you,” you breathed, and he flashed a smile. 

“I love you,” Ben smiled, grunting as Zhou struggled again. “Take her. Get out of here. I will come for you when I am done with what I need to do.” 

You looked so torn to him. It tore him apart, really, and it felt like his soul was ripping in two, only it wasn’t his; it was yours. “ _ Go! _ ” Ben finally hissed, shoving you away with the Force. 

You didn’t have to be told again, rushing to Solus and draping her arm across your shoulders. “I love you!” You shouted back, and you hauled Solus to her feet, the half-alive Gray groaning as you dragged her with you. 

Once you were in sight of the ships, Poe and Finn rushed out to help you. “What happened?” Luke asked you, and you looked him in the eye. 

“Kylo Ren just saved my life, but you already know that. It was a Sith. First Order affiliate. Is anyone else missing?” You asked Liberty. 

The brunette had a scratch across her right eye that seemed to have stopped bleeding, her violet-gold eyes seeing right through you. “Only Jake. No one knows where he is. We can’t even trace his Force signature.” An Elite ran up to Liberty and whispered in her ear, and her face fell. “But there were casualties. We lost Brandon.” 

Your mind flicked to the tall, blonde kid you’d sparred with that had spared you before you were truly able to fight him. His friend was leaning over his body, cradled in her lap, holding the freshly dead Brandon in her shocked arms, brushing his hair from his sweat and blood-drenched forehead. 

You paused, looking at Luke, who shook his head. “No. You are  _ not _ going back for Kylo,” he hissed. 

“But he could  _ die, _ Luke,” You hissed, and he shook his head. 

“That doesn’t matter. It was his choice. And he’s so experienced in the Force that he’ll be fine.” 

Solus stirred beside you, her leather jacket caked in mud and leaves in her hair, her skin streaked with her own blood and dirt, still in the grasp of Poe and Finn who both seemed conflicted over the presence of Kylo Ren on this moon with them. “Wha’ happen?” she mumbled out, and then almost fell over. 

“You have a concussion,” you told her, supporting her at the waist. “Come on. Let’s get you on the ship.” 

“Where we?” 

“Near Nymous Outpost,” you replied as you walked the stumbling Solus back to the ship the two of you came on, Rey taking her other arm and helping you lug her up the ramp into the medbay of the ship. You felt Jake tugging on your bond, trying to get your attention, trying to pull you in. You laid Solus down on a cot, sitting down on the floor beside her. Rey sat beside you, feeling your pull from him. You looked at her through pained, clouded eyes. “Get me out of here before I hurt someone.” 

Rey nodded, helping you to a small, private room on the shuttle. You winced, your vision flipping between Jake’s and your own. Rey became the face of another male, so similar to Jake’s.  _ Must be Britain, _ you thought. 

Eventually everything came into focus. The other man was crying, Jake was petrified, and everything seemed to be going downhill. 

“I can’t come with you, Britain,” Jake murmured, his hands tight on his sabers. 

His brother, clad in Knight of Ren tunic, shook his long curly hair out of his brown eyes, glaring at his brother. “Then I’ll have to kill you.” 

“Do whatever you want, brother, but I will not fight you,” Jake hummed, dropping his sabers. They shorted out on the ground, shutting themselves off. Britain gripped his saber tighter, staring at his brother as tears streamed down flushed cheeks. “It’s not like that mattered to you when you killed Mother, or when you killed Dylan.” 

_ “I did not kill Mother! _ ” Britain screamed out, his raw voice echoing across the trees. Jake shook his head, not buying it. 

“I held her in my arms as she died, Britain. It was you. Father was so  _ proud _ of you, like you were his favorite child.” Jake looked at him with distaste, but still with an immense amount of love. “You are my brother, Britain. I still love you, despite these shortcomings.” 

“I don’t want to kill you,” Britain hiccuped, trying to hide his sobs. Your heart panged for him, the former Knight just like Kylo. He twirled the staffsaber above his head, and then with a more solid resolve, said, “But I have to, and therefore I will.” 

“Do it, brother.” Jake looked at him, and you shouted into his head, begging him not to. You were remotely aware of someone grabbing you, holding you down. You fought against it, you fought Jake’s complacency in the face of his own death. 

It all happened in slow-motion. A girl, purple-haired, sprung from the bushes, tackling Britain in an attempt to stop whatever was happening. She popped back up, all three sabers in hand, and glared at the two of them. “I get it, it’s been a while, but  _ really. _ I leave you two alone for like ten years and you’re trying to kill each other. I swear, it’s like some things never change.” 

Jake and Britain looked at her, confused, and Jake finally said, “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“Oh! Right. Yeah. I’m Dylan, Dylan Kenmore-Kazmarek. I’m your sister.” 

You felt Jake’s shock the same time as you did your own, the feeling of the emotion almost paralyzing you. Britain rubbed at his eyes, wiping away tears.  _ “What? _ ” He hissed out, and the brothers divided weren’t so divided anymore. 

“Uh, yeah. Apparently the Force didn’t want me to die, so.” Dylan shrugged, scratching her neck. “Ten years been too long, I guess.” 

“Why are you alive?” Britain breathed, reaching out to touch her as if he was afraid she was real. She grabbed his hand, her face turning to one of anger and confusion. 

“You, brother, are out of line. You as well, Jacob.” Jake flinched at Dylan’s words, her gray eyes stormy and piercing. “You are meant to get along, not to kill each other.” 

A bush rustled, and you caught a glimpse of white armor, doing the mental equivalent of whacking someone repeatedly to get their attention. Jake finally became aware of your presence, and then said,  _ What are you doing here? _

You were about to answer, and then a squad of troopers stormed into the small clearing, a flare of blasters and shouting of orders. Jake was hit; shoulder and thigh, but Dylan had tossed each man their sabers the second she heard them. She engaged her own, the white beams clashing with plasma beams as she growled in anger. Jake charged into them, slashing and cutting alongside his brother and sister, and then his sister fell in a blaze of glory. A third shout came across the clearing, and Kylo Ren came shouting by, charging into the trooper that had shot her down. He went flying back into the tree, and Ren slaughtered everyone alongside Jake and Britain, the three of them in a protective circle around her. 

You felt Kylo’s anguish and Jake’s fear. It was too much for you, and you clung to whatever--whomever-- was holding you down, gritting your teeth. It all started to fade from you, Jake, Kylo, all of it, and then you were staring into the bright blue eyes of Zephyr Ren, his long hair tickling your face and his eyes slowly fading back to brown. 

“What the hell?” You asked him, and he got off the cot he’d had you pinned on. 

Rey looked at you from the corner of the room. “None of us were strong enough to hold you down. You injured three Elites and warped three main panels on the ship before Zephyr here could get a block on your mind.”

You looked at the man who was now cradling his arm, as if you’d injured him, and Desiree glared at you from the corner. You looked away, and then said, “I’m sorry. I need to be alone right now.” 

Rey nodded, and everyone but Zephyr left the room. He stood there for a moment, and you raised an eyebrow, and then the gray-clad, dark-skinned Knight finally said, “In the absence of Lord Ren.... I would like to protect you. Along with my sister, Carmine, when I find her.” 

You looked at him, surprised. “I just probably fucked your arm up, and you’re asking to be my protection?”

He looked to the side, brushing his hair from his face. “If that is not satisfactory--”

“Zephyr, stop. You can, if you like. Just don’t beat up Solus or Jake or any of the Elites. They’ll fuck you up, or they’ll pretty much die trying.” You rubbed your face, staring at the motionless body of Solus on the cot next to you. 

“That’s ridiculous. Why would you die trying to hurt someone?” Zephyr sniffed, and rolled his shoulder into place. 

You tilted your head at him. “Why do you think Kylo escaped Snoke? That he’s here, on this moon, doing whatever needs to be done to bring down Snoke?”

Zephyr shrugged. “I may not agree with my lord’s actions, but I am sworn to follow him. And because he cares for you, I will protect you the best I can in his absence.” 

You nodded, unlacing your knee-high boots. “Zephyr... Why are you here?” 

“I don’t follow.” 

“Why the Force decided to put you here, right now,” you murmured, brushing your short hair back. 

“I don’t believe the Force works like that,” Zephyr sniffed. 

“Well,” you said, tossing your boots and flight jacket on the floor, “I do. And everything that has happened over the last two years can’t convince me otherwise.” You reclined on the cot, feeling fatigue cloud your body. “I’m going to sleep. Do whatever you want. Wake me if Solus asks for me.” 

Zephyr nodded, stepping out of the room and standing diligent guard at the door. You drifted asleep, in good conscience that he would take care of you. 

\---------------------------------------------

_ Kylo -- Ben, whatever his name was  _ \-- stood over Dylan as Britain and Jake cradled their sister in their arms, Dylan gasping for air. The Force tingled at Kylo’s fingertips, but he knew better than to rely on the Dark. It would drag him back down the path he once had taken, the path he now fights to get off. 

Jake shook his sister’s shoulder, begging her to come back. Kylo couldn’t hear him; his blood was pounding in his ears, trying to figure out how he’d explain this to Lilliana. 

Dylan shooed her brothers away, beckoning to Kylo. He dropped to his knees, numb, and gathered her in his arms, feeling the Force buzz through her. She was the Force itself. “I told you my time was coming to an end.” 

“I didn’t know you meant like this,” he murmured, moving so he could support her failing body better. 

She smiled, then coughed up blood. “Ah, fuck. Slow burn deaths are always annoying, aren’t they?” 

Kylo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “This is why I told you not to come with me, Dylan.” 

She waved a hand. “Eh. It was worth it.” Dylan nodded to her brothers. “Take care of this one, boys. He’s a good guy under all that scruff. You really need to shave, Ben.” 

Kylo laughed, wiping away tears as she faded from the living world. Eventually, her body did as well, and Kylo was left holding her saber and the arrowhead necklace, the thing that seemed to bring her so much luck. 

Jake hauled Kylo up by his cloak, pinning him against a tree. “Is this your doing? Did you send those troopers?” 

“Why would I do that?” Kylo hissed out. “If I want someone dead, I kill them myself. Ask your brother, he knows.” 

“I also know what your screams sound like as I break every bone in your body,” Britain snarled, looming over his brother’s shoulder. 

“What?” Jake asked his brother, and Britain shrugged. 

“He was asked nicely to torture me for months on end, restricting my access to the Force and breaking every bone in my body slowly, over and over and over until I passed out, and then he would wait for me to wake up before continuing. And I didn’t teach him that.” Kylo shoved Jake off of him. “Take what little you know of your  _ sister _ and get out of here. You didn’t know her.” 

Jake shoved him back. “Like hell I didn’t! You knew her for what, a month? If that?” 

“ _ Seven, _ Kazmarek,  _ seven. _ She saved my life, rescued me from Snoke. Her and Lilliana. And yet, here we are, arguing over who knows her better!” Kylo rolled his eyes, scooping up the arrowhead and the saber. “I have to take these back to Lilliana. You run back to the New Republic with your little prisoners and I’ll meet you there when I’m done.” 

“General Organa will have you executed,” Jake warned. 

Kylo stopped mid-stride, and turned to look Jake in the eye. His heart panged, fists clenched, and then he said, “How apt a death for a man who murdered his father. Lawfully executed by his own mother.” Kylo threw his head back and laughed, dark hair falling across his face and forehead. “I am not afraid of death. I welcome it, for whenever it comes, I will be ready to go. Until then, I have things I have to do. Good day, boys. I will see you soon.” 

Kylo turned back around to stride out, and then Jake said, “What do you want me to tell her?” 

Kylo froze, and then he said, “Is not saying anything an answer?” Jake shook his head, and the former Sith sighed. “Then tell her the truth, Kazmarek. I feel she trusts you. Do not harm her, for I will cut you down where you stand. You and your brood.” Kylo shot a disgusted look at Britain. “And I’ll make sure you stay dead this time.” He strode off into the forest, soon vanishing from the twins’ sight. 

“Well, that was weird,” Britain sighed, and Jake turned and shoved his brother. 

“If I had known you were a  _ former _ Knight, it would have been so much easier to find you,” Jake hissed. “I’ve been looking for  _ years, _ Britain. Years.” 

Britain brushed curly hair from his eyes. “I can’t imagine why.” 

“You’re my brother. You’re my family. And you’re coming with me.” Jake knocked him out before he could answer, carrying the Sith to the ship. You felt his approach, flying out in your bare feet past Zephyr to get to him who followed you as rapidly as you left. Jake tossed his brother on the floor of the shuttle, everyone finally taking off. You tackled him in a hug, the 6’5 man struggling to keep his balance as you clung to him, face buried in his chest.

“I was worried,” you said, and he supported your weight, hiccuping sobs into your shoulder. You stayed there, feet dangling a foot off the floor as he held you effortlessly, crying into your embrace. You smoothed his hair down, feeling his body hiccup against yours. Samson came over to him, resting a hand on his shoulder, and everyone came into a huge group hug, supporting Jake as best they could. 

Zephyr was off by the door, watching all of it happen. Desiree sniffed beside him, red curly hair over her shoulder. “You’re making a mistake, trusting her. She’ll lead you right back to the Dark.” 

“Even if the doctor falls further,” Zephyr replied, “it will be temporary. She will see the error of her ways.” 

“You seem so certain of that,” Desiree sniffed, rubbing a gloved finger at her nose. “I don’t like it, Zephyr.” 

“You don’t have to, my friend,” the taller man sighed, watching as you made your way from the crowd to look at Britain slouched on the floor. Zephyr came to join you, squatting beside your kneeling frame. 

“I remember him.” Zephyr brushed Britain’s hair from his face, the Sith sound asleep with a bruise forming under a cut on his forehead. 

“He’s not unattractive,” you murmured. 

Zephyr laughed, a sharp, unexpected sound. “I suppose not. However, I wouldn’t really find him as such. The man’s a psycho, more dedicated to himself than furthering what was our cause.” 

You nodded, standing up. “Kylo is here, I can feel him.” 

Poe’s command for everyone to strap in came across the intercom, and you went up to the cockpit to sit with him, Zephyr closely following. Finn was already there, and before you said anything, you turned to leave, expecting not to be welcome; but Finn spotted you, the dark-skinned Resistance fighter jumping to his feet and hugging you.

You froze for a second, and then hugged him back. “Thank you,” Finn finally said. “For saving my life.” 

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, patting him on the shoulder. “I should have figured you’d be up here. I’m going to go check on Solus. We can talk later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Poe said, and Finn smiled and nodded. “Of course.” 

You nodded and slunk into the shadows, stalking towards Solus’s room like a wounded animal. Some of the Elites whispered as you passed by, your heightened senses picking up snippets of their conversation. 

_ “I heard she Force-slammed a Trooper so hard she broke his armor.” “Shut up, kid. That can’t be right. She couldn’t hurt anyone.” _

You had once believed the same thing about yourself. Now you were doubting it, and you remembered what the adrenaline tasted like, how the  _ power _ felt. It was addicting, like the world had just met right there at that time to give you everything it had. And every fiber of you craved that feeling again, to feel like you were on top of the world in an instant. 

Oh, how intoxicating it was. How you  _ craved  _ it now. 

You finally understood why Kylo fell to the Dark. 

\-------------------------

_ Kylo came home. _

Not to Leia, but to Lilliana. 

He reached up to knock on the door, standing on the rickety old wood porch, the one he’d said he’d , but Lilliana had felt him coming, and she threw open the door, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. “Is she....?” 

Kylo bit his lip, handing her Dylan’s saber. 

She gasped, holding it in her arms like it was a child. Tears streamed down her face, and Kylo leaned down and picked up the young doctor, holding her in his arms as she mourned, her arms smushed between the two of them as they simply mourned together, Kylo carrying her inside and sitting down on the floor, curled around her as if to protect her.

After a while, they’re both sitting at the kitchen table, Dylan’s spot next to him eerily empty, drinking tea by the light of an oil lamp. Beetee made a hissing sound upon discovering Kylo had returned, and rolled off to do stars know what.

“I couldn’t save her,” Kylo whimpered, staring at the steaming mug. Tears streaked his cheeks, and the hot ceramic burned his hands. 

Lilliana reached across the table and rested her small, soft hands on his. “Kylo, you can’t blame yourself. She told me she would so whatever the Force willed her to do. If that meant dying, she would die.” 

“That’s not helping,” Kylo sniffed. 

Beetee rolled back into the room, and Lilliana muttered, “Holy fuck,” causing Kylo to turn and look at the droid. 

Beetee was holding Kylo’s saber, with a very big “fight me” attitude. 

_ I will hurt you if you do not leave. _

“Shit, Bee, put that down,” Kylo coaxed. 

Beetee took a vicious swing at him with his saber, causing the Gray to jump out of his seat and dart across the kitchen, watching the little droid carefully. She took another swing at Kylo, and the man climbed up onto the counter, whacking at the black and gold droid with a shoe. 

A knock came at the door, and Lilliana got up to answer it, wheeling her little chair towards the door. 

There stood a dim-eyed Solus and Rey, along with Luke Skywalker.

Kylo looked at them, kicking the saber from the distracted droid’s grasp, and caught his saber, turning it off. Beetee hissed at him, and Solus finally said, “Beetee. Enough.” 

The little droid perked up, rattling off lines of binary at the excitement of seeing this person. The Gray and two Jedi stepped inside at Lilliana’s urging, and Solus hugged Lilliana. “I’m sorry about Dylan, Lil. Is there anything I can do?”

“ _ Why are you here, Solus?”  _ Lilliana hissed at her, eyes narrowed. 

“The First Order is destroyed. I came to retrieve a few things of mine that I asked you to store. You can keep Beetee, if you like. She’s loyal. Apparently shares her former master’s wish of killing Kylo.” 

Kylo looked at Solus, this black-haired, purple-eyed woman someone he’s never met before. “Excuse me?” Kylo snapped. “What did I do to you?” 

Solus stiffened, turning to face him, black flight jacket falling off her shoulders. “What did you do to me,” Solus scoffed, slipping off her jacket. “Oh, if you knew the struggles you put me through,” she snarled, and Rey grabbed her around the waist, Luke sighing heavily. 

“No, cousin, let her go. Put her down, see what damage she can do to me.” 

“ _ Cousin _ ?” Solus hissed out, and Lilliana slowly backed away from the group. She shook free of Rey’s grip, glaring at Luke. “You never bothered to  _ tell  _ me?”  

“I thought you knew,” Luke answered, looking away. 

Solus scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Lil, where’s my shit? I need to get it before I kill these fools.” 

“In the back closet, where you left them.” 

Solus stalked back there, her coat dangling off the edge of the wooden chair, an obsidian knife strapped to the inside of it. 

“What’s her problem?” Kylo snapped, and immediately regretted his tone. 

Rey glared at him. “The only reason I didn’t let her kill you is because you mean a lot to the doctor, and after what she did today.... I don’t want to be on her bad side.” 

“What’d she do?” Lilliana asked, blue eyes concerned. Kylo leaned forward, interest piqued. 

“What, you haven’t heard?” Rey tossed her hair, down in gentle chestnut waves, behind her shoulder. “She Force-slammed a Trooper at Crescent Base against a wall so hard she shattered his armor and spine, killing him. Stars know how many more she can bring down like that.” 

Kylo looked at her, shaking his head. “You have the wrong woman. That is not my girl. Not my doctor, not my love.” 

Luke sighed, gripping Kylo’s shoulder with an iron grip. “I’m sorry, Ben. But it’s true. I saw it in her mind myself.”

“Does... Does she regret it? Was it in self-defense? Is she alright?” Kylo asked, curling up in a ball on the counter. 

“I don’t believe she does, nor do I believe it was in self-defense. She’s fine, sort of. Shaken up. Physically, she’s not majorly injured. A few scrapes, some bruises, but she’ll be fine in a week or so. Solus has a concussion, though. She’s out of it. More aggressive than usual. Don’t take her as always being like this.” Rey shrugged, her hands knit together behind her back. “However, do take her threats seriously. She will hurt you, Kylo. And it’s clear she wants your blood spilled.”

“I don’t know what I did to her,” Kylo sniffed. 

Rey was about to reply before Solus marched back into the room, her shaved side of her hair a little overgrown and her hair still a mess from the battle in the woods. She dropped a sword scabbard on the table, Beetee at her heels; a heavy canvas bag followed, and Lilliana sighed. “Are you sure that’s a past you want to reopen so soon?” 

Solus stared at the bag, and Luke gripped her shoulder, giving the focused girl a gentle smile. “It’s okay if you can’t do it, Solus.” 

“It’s not me,” Solus sniffed. “It’s him.” 

She threw her arm in the direction of Kylo, and he groaned. “What did I do to you, woman?”

“ _ You _ almost killed me, almost killed my little sister, and destroyed everything you and I worked to build from the time I showed up at Luke’s doorstep with my sister in my arms!” Solus shouted, and Kylo paled. 

“Who  _ are _ you?” He asked, and then she sniffed. 

“My name is Minerva Solus. I’m Rey’s older sister, and apparently your cousin.” 

Rey set her jaw, nodding. It only confirmed what she already suspected. Luke paled, Lilliana gasped, and Kylo stared at her, his eyes trying to find the girl he knew when he was a child. 

“Min?” He asked, his voice small. “I.... I thought you were dead.” 

“That was the point, jackass. I buried Minerva under a pile of bantha fodder the day I woke up from a coma that  _ you put me in! _ ” She hissed, and Luke restrained her, her legs flailing out in front of her. 

“What good does that do? If she really wanted to hurt me, she could do it with the Force,” Kylo sighed. 

“I’d rather physically beat your brains out,” Solus hissed. “You gave me one hell of a scar, and I’m lucky I survived.” 

“Thanks, I appreciate the gesture,” Kylo sniffed, and grabbed Dylan’s saber, heading for the door. Beetee hissed, and Kylo rolled his eyes, using the Force to switch the droid off. “The next time that thing tries to kill me, I’ll blow its head off, Lil.” 

“Leave Beetee alone. She was Solus’s before she was mine,” Lilliana sniffed. “It’s not like it’s me who made her like that.” 

Kylo scoffed and donned his hood, Lilliana’s and Dylan’s sabers in hand. “I’ll return these when I am done with my mission.” He turned to Solus. “I expect that the next time you see me, you will deliver me to Leia Organa and let the justice system work on me instead of your own vigilante, bounty-hunter pride, Min.” 

“Don’t call me that. And the only reason you’re not dead yet is because I’ve taken a liking to your girlfriend.” 

Kylo snorted. “Thanks, I guess. I’ll see you then,  _ General _ .” Solus gaped at him as he left, Kylo snickering to himself as he left and descended the rickety old porch steps. Maybe when this is all over, he’ll come back to this moon and make himself-- and you-- a home here. 

Solus gawked at the place Kylo Ren just stood, many sirens going off in her foggy head. “Can I kill him?” she asked, question directed at Luke. 

“Uh, no,” the Jedi Master replied. “I’ll need you, him, Rey, and the Doctor to start over.”

“You want a Sith Lord, a former Sith, two Jedi, and a Gray that’s slipping to the dark on your side?” Rey snapped, and Solus flinched. 

Lilliana poured them all tea, and then said, “You know I’m sitting right here, right? Solus, do you even realize how many of us there are? How many Force-sensitives? We could start over with an  _ army _ , Solus. An army of us, to keep the Republic safe, to teach, to find children, to finally start over like it was in the Old Republic.” 

Rey smiled, and then Solus grinned. “That actually.... Sounds pleasant.” 

Luke smiled, clapping her on the shoulder. “Indeed it does, Minerva. Indeed it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, sorry for the wait on chapters here. After this chapter, I hit a plotting plot hole, and had to wait a week, stay up a total of 48 hours straight, and binge-watch 18 hours of Avatar: the Last Airbender before I got where I needed to go to connect chapter eleven with an estimated chapter fifteen-eighteen. But, hey, this is like 9K, so there's that. Anyway, it might be a while before I post chapter twelve, so here's this one. Until next time!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gray Jedi. Broken, beaten, and mourning over the loss of one of their most promising recruits. In the midst of the beginning of winter, so much pain and fear still lingers. Brendol Hux's own agenda, causing so much more pain, is no help either as your desperation grows stronger for your missing lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Brandon T. Mathenia, my good friend who passed in April. Writing this chapter finally gave me some closure and things I wanted to say but couldn't. Thank you all for the support you showed me, it meant so much. May the Force be with you all.

_ It was winter, and Leia Organa _ was more than happy to see all of her Elites back alive. 

Well, almost all. 

You, Jake, and a concussed Solus were three of the six pallbearers in the coffin that held Eva’s fallen comrade. The General’s face fell as she watched it descend, the Republic symbol emblazoned in the wooden lid of the coffin above the Elite’s. 

Leia pressed her hand to the lid as all of you set it down, turning towards the coffin and saluting, tears in your eyes, as the coffin was taken by the ones who would make the funeral arrangements. The tall, light-haired girl did her best to hold back her tears, but the shocked and confused look on her face as she cradled him, bleeding and dying, on the loading dock of the ship was enough. His blood still stained her clothes, the flight jacket so similar to yours speckled with blood. 

Her gray pants were washed dark red, both from her own wounds and her friend’s. She still had the look of shock on her face, and as Leia approached her to give condolences, the girl’s expression didn’t change as she numbly hugged the mother of the entire New Republic. You were still in salute, immovable, as if the military life had forever been ingrained into your skin. Solus had done an excellent job in the past two years, you’d say, taking you from a neutral party to a very opinionated, solid believer in the cause of the New Republic -- or, well, mainly the Gray Jedi. No, just the Gray Jedi. 

Blood was dried on her hands; she’d sat there for hours, staring at it, after they had moved her away from the body. She refused to touch Leia with the blood, as if it would stain the nice clothes she wore. The general took the taller girl’s face in her hands and stood on her toes to kiss her on the cheek, the two sharing a broken moment. 

It was winter. 

It was winter when Han died, when Kylo left. Jake’s eyes flicked towards you, clearly aware of where your mind was going. 

It was winter. 

A snowflake fell from the sky, and you watched it, the chilly air tickling your bare neck. How odd of an idea it was to cut your hair. 

As the coffin left your presence, you all moved from salute to attention, and then parade rest. General Organa stayed behind, and then called for the six of you to gather around her. 

Her warm brown eyes settled on you. “He was there, wasn’t he?” 

You nodded, not even questioning who it was she was speaking of. “Saved my life, and Solus’s.” 

A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “I knew there was good in him.”

“We both did, General,” you agreed. 

She nodded at you, and turned to look at the most elite of the Elites. “Good work everyone. In a week or so, there will be a victory event to celebrate this win. But for now, let’s support Private Neveu in her loss, as well as the rest of the Elite squadron. Tend to your wounded, and the funeral will be tomorrow.” Leia lowered her eyes, and then said, “All of you, dismissed. Get some sleep. You all need it.” 

You all saluted and parted the circle to give her an exit, and then you all went your separate ways. You ran back to your apartment, seeing Pickles lazily strewn over a couch arm. You relaxed, so worried about his health and well-being. How long had you been gone? How little time have you spent around him? How little had you even  _ thought _ of him?

He mewled happily at the sight of you as you crashed on the couch, too tired to do much else. Pickles crawled into your arms, and it was there you slept, for what seemed like an eternity. Blissful, peaceful sleep.

You felt Kylo through all of your dreams. They were gentle, for once, and no horrible visions from the Force to wake you up at three AM like they had in the past. When you awoke, Pickles was asleep on your head, sleepily chewing on your hair, and you opened one lazy eye to see a dog happily sniffing in your face. You yelped in surprise, scaring the shit out of Pickles. The puppy -- for that’s what he was -- yipped happily, bouncing at seeing you. 

“What the hell?” you asked, gently petting the big puppy as he tried to lick you. On the red collar, there was a tag and a small note, rolled up in a small tube and tied to the collar. 

You pulled out the scrolled piece of paper, unfurling it to discover Kylo’s all-uppercase, scrawling handwriting. 

_ My love--  _

_ I made some mistakes. You know that. Right now, I’m trying to make those mistakes go away, or to at least repair some of the damage I’ve done. I’m on Geonosis right now, and this shepherd is from here as well. He’s loyal, loving, and he will protect you. I don’t know how long I’ll be, so have him. I know it’s not a replacement, hell, even a close gift, but I wanted you to know that I’m going to come home. Once all this is done, I’ll leave this place behind me. I’ll come home to you, Leia, my cousins, and uncle. I’ll set things right. And then it’s just you, me, and him. (and Pickles.)  _

_ With love,  _

_ \--Kylo.  _

_ P.S., the dog’s name is Dylan, for Jake’s sister. I couldn’t save her, but maybe he can save you. _

You looked at the brown and black dog, staring up at you with such loving eyes, and you crumbled, wrapping Dylan in your arms and sobbing into his fur. Pickles mewled, confused, and investigated the scene before climbing into your lap, licking Dylan’s leg. 

“I’ll do everything I can,”  you murmured, and Anakin appeared beside you, smiling. 

_ He’s not so bad, _ Anakin smiled, and you shrugged. 

“He’s from Kylo,” you breathed, petting the dog. 

“I know,” Solus breathed from the doorway. You looked up, the pale Gray doing her best to keep it together. Tearstains dotted her cheeks, and her eyes were bloodshot, voice hoarse. “We both know.” Anakin patted you on the shoulder, fading from existence. Solus looked at you, rubbing fresh tears from her eyes. “Get cleaned up. The funeral is in three hours,” she hummed, trying to keep herself together as she moved to your kitchen, collapsing on the table and letting small sobs escape her. 

You nodded, standing up and heading to your room to get dressed, the finely embroidered red tunic and black trousers with your knee-high leather boots you used for meetings your attire before heading back to comfort the sobbing Solus.  

Indeed, it was winter, you mused, hand on her shoulder and the tall, dark-haired leader sobbing into your shoulder. Never before had you seen her this weak, and never had you felt this empty.

_ \----------------------------------------------------------- _

_ The funeral was somber. _

Only a few of the Gray were able to neglect their duties within the Republic upon their return to attend Private Mathenia’s funeral. You were one of them, standing next to a sobbing Jake and gripping his large hand, the man positively shaking in his grief. Solus stood behind you, her hand on your shoulder. Rey and Luke were by her, and the General, Leia, was wrapped around her brother’s arm, having not seen him in so, so bloody long. The Skywalkers, minus one. 

When Solus had told you of her heritage that morning, as shocked as she was, you weren’t surprised. She’d drawn the katana on her hip, the engraved blade glinting in the dim light.  _ “I always wanted to be a samurai,”  _ she’d told you, her purple eyes following the single-edged blade like it was hypnotic.  _ “To have something to belong to, to have something to say, ‘Yes! This is who I am! I belong to one master, one master only, and I will serve him until I die!’ I guess that’s what was appealing about the Sith, anyway.”  _ She swung the sword over her head and downward, spinning it and readjusting to the blade, her grip as fluid as her motions. You envied her grace, but she didn’t know that.  _ “This is the blade I will continue my life on, Doctor. The way of the samurai.”  _

You stared at the casket in front of you, and you reached up and placed a hand on the box. “Stars watch over you, Mathenia. May the Force guide you from here on, whether it is in this life or the next.” Jake smiled at you, tears in his eyes, and you leaned on his side, sharing your warmth. Your black cloak fluttered in the wind behind you, brushing the backs of your knees and tossing the hood about, your short hair a curly mess and frizzing in the chilly breeze as winter descended on D’Qar. A few stray flakes descended around you from the gray skies, each little one a different individual of the whole. 

Eva, Brandon’s partner, stumbled up to the casket, a shaking hand on her partner’s remains. She stood there for a moment, and then she turned to face the crowd. She shook like a leaf, and pulled her white cloak closer. She opened her mouth to say something, and then sighed, staring at her pale palm as crimson lightning raced along them. A few people gasped, as if they hadn’t sensed the dark with the both of them, and then she nodded. “Through the pain, through the struggles he and I shared, when we had nothing, we had each other. As time progressed, and we grew, I learned to look up to him as a brother, a mentor, a friend. Now, I am missing a large portion of my life.... And that is okay. Because as time grows, I will heal, or I will adapt. I have never been stronger. He has given me the strength to carry on, in his legacy, in his name.” Eva met your gaze, and then she said, “I believe it was his opinion that we should all carry on, and live as if he had told us to. The anthem of the angels will carry me home, and it will take care of us all.” 

Solus gripped your shoulder tightly, as if she knew what the anthem of the angels was. Jake’s arm snuck around your waist, fingers gently pressing into the soft skin at your hip, and Samson approached. “Sorry I’m late,” he murmured in your ear, hugging you.

You hugged him, the dark-skinned man smiling as you relaxed into him. “I missed you, Samson,” you muttered, and he smiled. 

“I missed you too, little one.” 

You let go of him, albeit hesitantly, and he embraced Jake, the two gently kissing. Solus shoved their shoulders, saying, “No PDA, guys, no PDA.”

As they laughed, the others around them, crying and sniffing, laughed a little too. It was a little different, you thought. It was different how you all processed grief differently. You’d trained with the kid a few times, and yet you were here, unable to say anything other than the equivalent of “I’m sorry.” Jake didn’t really seem to mind, though. Your company was everything to him, but he was so sheltered from you, his pain closed off, that you couldn’t get in his head. He was as foreign to you as you were to him. How apt, you figured, that the man you once trusted the most was now the biggest stranger. You looked around, feeling the Force tingle at your fingertips, and black light danced around your fingertips. You immediately shut down the connection, panicking a little; as far you knew, your Force signature was violet. 

Jake looked at you over Samson’s shoulder, watching the color drain from your face. You smiled at him, though it was tight and unforgiving, and you simply walked away from the funeral, Poe and Jessika at your heels. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jessika asked. 

You didn’t answer her, and Poe grabbed your shoulder. “We need you to talk to us!” 

You spun and knocked his hand from your shoulder, hair flying about you as you shook his hand off. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you murmured, stepping away from him. The pain in his eyes at your action was enough to bury your heart deeper in your chest, behind walls and walls of brick and mortar. You pulled your hood up as snow started to fall from the overcast sky, stalking back towards the base. 

Poe and Jessika didn’t follow you, standing there where you left them. Poe looked at his twisted hand, eyebrows furrowed, and then looked to Jess. “Something’s wrong,” he murmured. 

The tan woman nodded, almond eyes wide. “That there is, Dameron. That there is.” 

You fled the area, Solus leaving too, and the both of you headed in separate directions. The tightness, this fear, you decided, would  _ never _ be the death of you. Not this winter. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

_ Solus stared at the wooden workbench in _ front of her, her arms shaking, her eyes unfocused. 

She was the daughter of Luke Skywalker. 

Hell, her father even being still  _ alive _ . 

Both were foreign concepts to her. With a roar of anger, she cleared the workbench with her arm, wiring and circuits clattering to the duracrete floor, leaving her long, pale fingers gripping the wooden grooves and her knuckles turning white. Her shoulders shook as she gasped for breath, her entire body rejecting the idea of being a Skywalker. Her cousin the man she’d demanded the head of. Her family was dead, save for Rey; at least that wasn’t a shock.

The tightness in her chest restricted her breathing, a cold sweat coating her body. She felt sick, sick with envy, sic with rage, sick with  _ fear. _ Minerva Solus was many things, and she felt many things, but fear was not one of them. 

A soft knock came at the door, but she didn’t even bother to answer it. She knew exactly who it was. 

“Not now, Skywalker,” Solus hissed out, and Luke sighed, groaning. 

“Please, Solus, don’t be angry with me,” he hummed through the durasteel door. “Let me in.” 

“Why would I let a liar into my presence?” She howled, throwing a holopad at the door. It shattered, falling to the floor like a glass rain, the soft tinkle of it hitting the floor the only other sound in the room other than her ragged breathing. 

The other side of the door was silent for a moment, and then, “Sister.” 

“Rey,” Solus breathed, stopping and facing the door. Tears stung her eyes and fell to her face, her chest tight and throat swollen. It was hard to breathe, it was hard to see, it was hard to  _ exist. _

“Solus, sister, let me in,” Rey pleaded, and Solus slid down the wall, head in her hands curled up in a sitting fetal position. She shook, her entire body, and her heart seemed to go a million miles a minute. The door clicked open and Rey ran in, dropping her staff on the floor and rushing to her sister’s side, sitting on her feet and pulling her sister into her arms as Solus shook as each sob shook her body, smoothing her hair back. Her booted feet crossed as she leaned into her sister, the young girl smoothing her older sister’s hair as she cried. “It’s gonna be okay, Solus.” 

Solus took a moment to gather herself, the durasteel door wide open with Luke staring at her from the other side of the threshold. Luke stepped over the threshold, and gathered his daughters in his arms, Solus and Rey both leaning into him. 

_ If this is family, I’ve never experienced it.  _

_ No, you have. You just don’t remember, _ Anakin softly murmured, and his force ghost materialized beside them, curling up with them even though they couldn’t feel him.  _ But now you remember, don’t you? What it was like before Snoke? Before you left him and came to Luke, when that was the closest thing you had to family? _

_ My family always betrays me, _ Solus sniffed. 

Anakin smiled at her from over Rey’s shoulder.  _ Real family, Solus, will never leave you out like that. Remember that. _

No wonder Anakin always spoke to her, why he told her to run from Snoke, why she would train the woman who would save the galaxy. She was his goddamn granddaughter. Solus slowly lifted her arms and wrapped them awkwardly around Rey, the girl flinching, and around Luke, the older man relaxing as his daughters wrapped themselves around him, resting on him, and then Solus breathed, “I am a Jedi, like my father before me, and his father before him. We are Skywalkers.”

A soft laugh left Luke’s lips, and he hugged his daughters closer, rocking back and forth. “I should never have kept that from you, Solus.” 

“Yeah, it was a shitty move,” Solus nodded, and Rey giggled, the family all smiles, for now-- the worst of winter was yet still to come.  

\---------------------------------------------------

_ You and Jake, still dressed in  _ your funeral attire later that evening, made their way towards the tower of the prison grounds. There, Amena, Talia, and Phasma were kept, and Jake was going to speak to his brother, in the highest level and most guarded level of the tower. 

“I trust you can make it in alright?” Jake said as you ascended the stone stairs up to the level you desired. 

“Yes.” 

Your voice was clipped, short, tight. Your heart raced at the thought of seeing your old friends, though you doubted they felt the same way. Jake smiled, gripping your shoulder. “You’ll be okay, bud.” 

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He turned and left, heading towards the Tower to ascend to the proper level. You waited for a while, trying to determine if you really wanted to speak to them, and you sighed, snatching food from the guard room and ascending the stairs. Your footsteps echoed on the orange-brown tile, the gray light of the overcast day washing it of color. Dismal, like the way you felt. 

You struggled to hide the heavy food in your cloak, hoping to whatever gods there were that there was no guard on their level right now. 

“Hey, you can’t be up here!” A guard shouted as you exited the stairwell, and your hopes were immediately shattered. Taking a breath, you smiled, smoothing the man’s lapel as he turned to face you, searching for the nametag on his chest. 

“Private Ornato,” you read, and patted his shoulder. “I don’t think my presence here will be a problem, will it?” 

He took a good look at you, and then saw the Elite insignia on the high collar of your jacket. He threw his hands up and shook his head, and you smiled tightly, nodding. “Thank you. Please leave your station, I would like to speak to the prisoners in private.” 

He nodded, flying into the stairwell faster than you could blink. A smug look settled on your face as you watched him go, and it faded as you turned towards your friends.

Amena’s voice floated from her cell, the woman leaning back against the bars. “Didn’t know you could clear a room that fast,  _ traitor. _ ” 

You flinched as if she had struck you, and said, “I brought you food.”

“I don’t want that disgusting gruel,” Amena snapped, and you pulled the bread and cheese wheel from your cloak. 

“Right, gruel,” you sniffed, and she flew towards you in an instant, hands grasping through the bars of their cell for food. Talia perked up immediately at the sight, and Phasma narrowed her eyes. You broke the loaf three ways and gave each of the three women a piece, and then the same with the cheese. You squatted in front of the large cell, the three women tearing into the food like scavenger birds. 

“Why are you here?” Phasma finally asked, and Amena reached for the water canteen you held in your hand. You gave it to her, and the girls passed it around. 

“I came here to help,” you murmured, and Phasma scoffed. 

Talia’s broken gray eyes met yours, her skin more fragile and pale than normal, and then she said, “If you were really here to help, why aren’t you unlocking these chains and opening these doors?” 

“It’s my understanding you refused to comply with General Organa,” you sniffed. “I came because you’re my friends. Because I hate to see you suffer.” 

“We’ve been suffering for the last  _ two years, _ ” Amena snarled at you, and you looked between them, shoulders slumping. 

“So much has changed,” you murmured. “Kylo escaped from Snoke. Hux is MIA, my best friend’s brother is still trying to kill him, the Sith are slowly coming out of their hiding spot thanks to you guys, for, you know, putting a bounty on my head.” 

“That was my idea,” Amena murmured. 

“I know it was, and I’m actually shocked you would do such a thing.” You took the canteen back from Talia, who passed it back through the bars. Sitting on the ground, you huffed, and then broke down, shoulders shaking and tears rolling down your face. You couldn’t speak for a moment, and then Talia sighed, reaching through the bars and gripping your hands with hers. “I’m happy knowing you’re all safe, but  _ listen to me, _ ” You finally managed, looking Phasma straight in the eye, smiling your thanks at Talia. “If you don’t comply, they will kill you. And they will make me do it.” 

“Why you? Why not that black-haired woman that arrested us?” Talia asked, hands tightening on yours. 

“A way of testing me, I guess. My loyalties, as they always have been, are with Kylo. Not with the Republic or First Order or Sith or Jedi. I guess now, though, it’s the Gray Jedi I belong to. They can strip me of my commander rank. They can take everything from me, but if they do that, the Elites will follow me. Solus, Kazmarek, Samson. All of them.” You wiped the tears from your eyes, and then stretched your back. “I will not listen to Leia, even if it means my own death.” 

“Will she kill you for disobeying?” Amena asked, and you shrugged. 

“Who knows? She might get bored of me and shout out a price, like you did, or the Council could call for my execution. That’s what they’ll do with Kylo as soon as word of his arrival reaches them.” You wiped your face, rubbing your temples. 

Jake rushed into the area you were in, shouting, “Commander!”

You leapt to your feet, spinning to face him. He was breathless, wild-eyed, and you half-shouted, “What is it, Captain?” 

“Your boyfriend,” he breathed, and you looked at him, confused. 

“He’s killing off what’s left of the First Order. Samar and Arabella have reported in; both of their targets were eliminated before they got there. Apparently the entirety of the Final Armament are being hunted down as well.” There was an added  _ thank the stars _ that you heard, probably having to do with his own run-in with Raph Neihaus some years back. You’d heard the story; Samar, before she was turned, was one  _ hell _ of a warrior, and you figured she’d be on top of killing Raph the second she had her chance. Interesting that Kylo did it for her. 

You snorted, shaking your head. You turned to the girls, and then smiled. “Think about what I said. Please try to eat. I’ll have them bring you better food, I promise,” you murmured, and they all nodded, and you went down the stairs with Jake. 

“How’s your brother?” You asked him, and he shrugged. 

“Angry. Tried to kill me the second I walked in.” 

“I’m sorry, Jake. Do you want me to talk to him?” 

“If you want,” he murmured. “It’s not like you can’t handle yourself anymore. I heard about what you did to that trooper.” 

“I didn’t know that being around the Force like that, that kind of power....” you stared at your hand, and then clenched it. “It’s intoxicating, and I’m craving it.” 

“Power is dangerous,” Jake sniffed. “It’s why Britain was so dark. You two would get along pretty well, I think.” 

“Didn’t realize relating me to your psycho brother was going to be so heartfelt,” you hissed, rolling your eyes. 

He snorted. “Solus called a meeting. Apparently Zephyr and Desiree are going to be there, as well.” 

“What for?” You asked him, barely keeping up with his long stride. 

“Your boyfriend,” he muttered, and you sighed, now jogging to keep up with him. 

“Hey, if you’re going to run there, carry me. I can’t keep up with you.” 

He snorted, and then said, “Yeah, sure, jump on.” 

“You serious?” You asked him, and he nodded, bracing himself properly.  

“Yeah. Come on, I haven’t got all day.” 

You sighed, backing up a little bit, and took a running leap onto his back, latching your arms and legs around him like a parasite. His large hands dug into your thighs as he supported your weight until you got settled, your arms latched under one of his arms and over the shoulder on the other side, hands knit together. 

He took off, his long stride -- easily six, maybe eight feet -- carried him across the tarmac, pilots and engineers watching as you took off. A ship slowly descended onto the runway, landing in front of you, and Jake stopped, causing you to reach for your saber. Something.... Wasn’t right. 

The loading dock dropped, and down came Hux, ginger hair impeccably kept, and wearing a white tank top and military green cargo pants, stuffed at mid-calf into his polished black boots. The entire world seemed to stop then, and you watched, frozen, as he stuffed a cigarette between his pale lips and lit it, taking a long drag. 

You slid off Jake’s back, saying, “Alert General Organa and Solus right away.” 

“Commander--” 

“Do not disobey a direct order,” you hissed at Jake, and he nodded, darting off. 

Hux laughed, a cold, judging sound. “You know, Doctor,” he said, smoke pooling out of his mouth as he spoke, “I never thought you would take  _ military  _ action against or for anyone. You never.... Read, I suppose, as that type.” 

“What are you doing here, Brendol?” you sniffed, and he flinched. 

“Brendol was my father’s name,” Hux snarled, cold eyes the color of the sea staring at you. The tattooed rings of his rank on his left arm you had always known about, but never truly saw. 

“But it’s your name too,” you replied, taking a step closer. “He named you Brendol Hux, Junior, because out of every one of his bastard sons and daughters, you were the most likely to achieve greatness.” You paused, looking him up and down. “And quite frankly, you have reached a level of infamy, so kudos to you.” 

“As have you,” he shot back. “A traitor to the First Order. A Jedi, nonetheless, and here you are, standing between me and what I came for.” He pulled out a blaster pistol, training it on you. “Do you know what happens to people who stand in my way?” 

“Do you know what happens to people who threaten my friends?” Someone hissed out behind you. 

You turned, confused, and saw a staggering Britain there, his curly mop of hair pulled back into a messy bun, his face streaked with dirt and his eyes tired, dark clothes tattered and torn. “What are you doing here?” You hissed to him, and he shrugged. 

“I was always good at deception,” he murmured. “This is for Dylan.” 

As Britain straightened and came up beside you, Hux raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve got a bodyguard? I expected more.” 

You felt Britain in your mind, a gentle, feather-light touch for such a violent mind.  _ Do you have your saber? _ He asked you gently. 

_ Back pocket.  _

_ Good. You might want to use that. _

You reached back, your hand securing on the white, bloodstained leather hilt, and you pulled out your saber, pulling on the tie of your cloak as it fell to the ground. It would only get in the way. The remaining Knights of Ren stepped out of the shadows behind Hux, and you tried to hide your shock and fear. You could go up against some troopers, yeah, but not the Knights. Britain gripped your wrist, eyes narrowed. 

A voice from behind the two of you shouted, “ _ Carmine! Sister! _ ” at the dark-skinned woman, the only woman on the ship with them. She stood a head taller than everyone else, and Zephyr darted towards her. You caught his wrist, stopping him. 

“She isn’t our ally, Zephyr,” you murmured, shaking your head. Britain gave Zephyr a broken look, and you let go of him, the man drawing his scarlet saber and engaging it, the beam sputtering like Kylo’s. The man’s gray eyes met yours, and so much  _ pain _ was there, as if he hadn’t known she was still alive. Desiree ran up beside him, and Britain took a step forward, releasing your wrist 

“Don’t move any closer, Ren,” Hux snarled. 

“Or what, Gingerbread? You’ll shoot me, with that  _ tiny wittle gun?” _ Britain smirked, and with a wave of his hand, the gun went flying and self-destructed in midair. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you going to use that?” 

Hux curled his lip. “Kill them,” he snarled out, waving with his hand at the small group of ragtag Force-users. 

“Sir.” The four Knights nodded, but none of them moved. The dark-haired girl, Carmine, eyed her brother, and then the Knights seemed to make their decision. 

“Now!” Hux barked, and they sprung into action, charging down towards you. The first one that met them was not, in fact, you, Britain, Zephyr, or Desiree. It was Eva, the light-haired, tall teen that had just spoken at her friend’s funeral. 

“No!” You shouted, and the girl threw her hand at them, shoving them away as she ran right up the ramp towards Hux. The Knights in her way stumbled back, shocked at the force of her attack, but actually ignored her as they set up around you. The ginger rolled his eyes and jabbed at her, but she grabbed his punch and brought him to his knees, vibroblade at his throat and her free hand knotted in his hair. “Don’t you  _ fucking touch them.”  _

In the confusion that followed afterwards, you, Britain, and Zephyr were able to force the four Knights to their knees. The eight of you calling on the Force to maintain control of the situation drove your buzz higher and higher, and in the former general’s eyes, you could see he knew exactly what it was doing to you. Desiree went around and arrested the Knights, and before she got to Hux, Solus shouted, “ _ What the hell happened here?” _

You opened your mouth to speak, and the former captain cut you off. “I don’t want to hear it, Xavier. Why is the fuckwad here?”

You glared at her. “I do not report to you, Solus. Sit your ass down and let your superior officer speak.” 

Solus opened her mouth to retort, and the look in your eye, the Force buzzing all around you, and probably your angered eyes made her close it again. “Yes, Commander,” she spat out, and you nodded. 

Carmine wandered up towards Eva, grabbing her, but whispered in her ear. The girl’s eyes went wide, and then she jumped in your head. 

“I want the four Knights detained. Lock them far away from each other, and I want the Elites on a --” You cut yourself off, hearing Eva’s plea as Carmine dove off the ship. You looked at Solus, eyes wide. “Everybody! Get down!” Hux grabbed Eva, throwing her over his shoulder and down the ramp of the ship as he lurched forward, the ship exploding before anyone could get to safety. Eva, pinned under Hux, was unconscious before she even hit the ground. 

All of you were sent flying by the force of the explosion, your head slamming on the duracrete of the tarmac. You saw nothing more. 

The smoke of the burning pieces of metal, though, and varying things all seemed to drift into the black cloud that hung above you; the snow that began to fall was not so pristine as before, the cold flakes kissing your skin in a sooty embrace. 

\-----------------------------------------

_ Samson heard the explosion before he _ saw it. 

The dark-haired man had barely gotten dressed before he’d heard it. He grabbed his saber and ran out of the bunker, shirt half-buttoned and barefoot, his pants rolled at his calf. A curly strand fell from his ponytail; he shoved it back in place, dark eyes scanning the flaming wreckage for survivors. 

He saw you lying there, blood pooling beneath you. Your saber had been scorched in the blaze, but it was only charred, not affecting the wiring inside the hilt itself. He leaned down and grabbed it, watching as four of the dozens of bodies around the blast rose off the ground. One of them was a pale, smug, rather annoying general he thought was dead. 

He looked between you and the ginger, and then sighed, a gentle smoke from him stitching up your wounds and staunching the bleeding. It spread from you to everyone else, healing their wounds. The Knights watched him, and finally, Samson said, “Either you leave this place and never return, or I will force your heads to implode.” 

They all looked between each other, and then gathered their most injured and left, but one girl stayed behind, laying still on the concrete. No pulse was felt from her, her dark eyes closed and her hair scorched off. Samson sighed, and when Jake, Poe, and Jessika, among others, stumbled upon the blast site, Samson watched the four of them leave in a small ship, Poe shouting, “What the hell happened?” 

“Brendol Hux happened. Get a group of people, help me get the injured to the medbay. I can’t heal them all,” Samson grunted, picking you up. You dangled in his arms, limp, almost lifeless. The question wasn’t if you would survive your wounds; it was a matter if you would choose to survive them. 

Samson stared at you, your face lost in fitful sleep, nightmares fluttering in your thoughts. He felt the turmoil within you, and he knew exactly when this reminded him of. 

_ “Miss,” he said, gently tapping you on the shoulder.  _

_ You jumped, turning to face him. “Sorry. I forgot you were here.”  _

_ “I feel your storm, child,” he murmured, brushing your hair over her shoulder. You took a step back, narrowing your eyes.  _

_ “The wolves are fighting inside of you,” he began. “The good one, and the evil one.”  _

_ “Well,” you said, probably assuming that he was crazy, “which one do you think will win?” _

_ He looked you straight in the eye, his brown eyes seeing through every wall you put up, every little thing you hid behind. “Whichever you feed the most.” _

Samson looked at you as he cradled you in his arms, tears springing to his eyes as he looked down on you, and though you were only a few years his junior, he saw you as his child, someone to take care of. His eyes memorized the way you looked, because he knew in that moment which wolf had just won, and it wasn’t the one he hoped it would be. 

It would be a miracle if you ever returned to him the same. 

Orders were barked as personnel gathered the dead and the wounded, tending to those who needed it. 

A few days later, Samson sat by your side in the medbay, watching you fight whatever you needed to fight. Solus entered the room, sitting beside him. 

“How is she?” She asked, looking at you. 

Samson shrugged. “Physically, she’s fine. Well, she had a lot of internal bleeding, will probably have permanent hearing loss, and maybe some vision issues, but that’s only if she wakes up.” 

“Is it.... Is it really that bad, whatever she’s going through?” Solus asked, violet eyes meeting his gaze. 

“Solus, when you came to train with me, I saw the same storm within you. Now, there is none. But the doctor?” Samson fixed his eyes on you, cradling your head and rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone. “She is not you, not as strong as you. Her strength came from her anger, confusion, determination. Yours? It comes from hope. Hope in  _ her. _ ” he nodded at you again, and then sighed. “Her First Order friends have come and gone, pleading her to wake up, but it never did anything.” 

“Would Kylo wake her up?” Solus breathed, voice tight. 

“Possibly, but he’s somewhere else in the galaxy, doing stars know what,” Samson sniffed. “I can’t track him. I don’t  _ want _ to track him.”

Solus nodded. “Can I have some time?” Samson nodded, muttering his reply as he left the room, softly shutting the door. Solus leaned over you, sitting on the edge of the medcot. “I see the storm, my friend. I see it in your heart. I know which side is winning. When you emerge, take care of the world around you; you will perceive it different. Let this journey define who you are now, and then, once it is done, redefine yourself next to the man you love.” She stood, looking at the arrowhead necklace wrapped around your hand, left by Jake or Britain. It wasn’t the same as Dylan’s. This one was metal, a black hue fired into the metal. 

She nodded. “Get up, soldier. I can’t play this game again. Eva is gone, taken by Hux, and I.... I can’t do this without you.” 

Solus pressed a kiss to your forehead, and left the room, the door softly shutting behind her. 

In her absence, the steaming cup of tea that was Samson’s was knocked over as you called on the Force, the metal restraints warping and snapping as you demanded they be removed. Your eyes snapped open, but as Anakin looked down on you, hand laced with Obi-Wan’s, he knew what you had become; and to make matters worse, it was all his fault. He pushed you, he demanded so much of you. He looked to Obi-Wan, eyes wide with fear, and squeezed his hand. 

It was, indeed, winter, and the trees were receiving their first dusting of snow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Aisling and Sarah for letting me borrow Samar, Raph (from The First and Final Armament by aisling_in_outer_space), and Arabella (from Aphelion by sarughhh). Those two are pretty damn good friends of mine, and thanks to both of them for putting up with my screaming and using them as a sounding board for ideas for this fic. And thanks to all of you, for sticking around this far. Do not worry, my friends, the fluff is coming. I HAVE WRITTEN FLUFF. IT IS CUTE. KYLO GETS PUNCHED IN THE FACE. THERE'S A LITTLE INFERRED FUN TIMES. IT'S GOOD. I PROMISE.   
> Sid out.   
> (p.s I had way too hard of a time spelling beginning for the first author's note. Ha.)


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.  
> Do not go gentle into that good night.  
> Rage, rage against the dying of the light."   
> \--Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas.

_ The victory gala was a brilliant  _ idea in theory, you thought. 

With everyone recovering from Hux’s melee attack on the base, everyone decided that it was in the best interests of the Republic to delay it; everyone being you, Solus, and Leia, demanding to the Council it be delayed until Hux can be brought in and detained or a team was tracking him. Now, you were sitting at the edge of the medcot that was the home of Knight of Ren Carmine. Zephyr was leaning over his sister and crying, cradling her dark face in his hand. He sniffed back tears, watching as she slowly stirred from her three-day coma, not so unfamiliar from the one you’d just woken up from yourself. Fatigue still clouded your limbs, your hair was still a slight mess, and you were confused. What were you becoming? Were you a Sith? A Jedi? Gray? Something else? 

You determined that, in the end, you would leave this place. You would leave, with Kylo, and never look back, never pick a fight, never fight again. Just let this be the last time, and move on. Watching Zephyr keening over his sister was painful enough for you, and it made you realize that this wasn’t the life you wanted. You just wanted to be happy. Forget this entire Jedi versus Sith battle; it was you and Kylo, your perihelion. 

“Brother?” she asked, her voice heavily accented. Zephyr nodded, smiling and crying as he brushed his hair back. 

“I am here, sister,” he smiled, and she smiled back, laughing through her tears. 

“Why.... Why can’t I feel my legs?” She asked, and Zephyr sighed. 

“Your legs are paralyzed, sister. The blast General Hux set off pinched your spinal cord, and paralyzed your legs,” Zephyr explained. You looked at her as she stared at her feet, probably trying to wiggle her toes, but nothing moved, panic encasing her eyes and body. “There’s nothing we could do,” he murmured, and she gripped his hand, biting back sobs. 

She finally met your gaze, and you held it, eyes steady. You were.... Different. Fearless. You kind of liked that, at least. “I would introduce myself, Carmine, but you clearly know who I am. My friends and I have been waiting for you to wake up; we have some....  _ Questions  _ for you.”

“I won’t join your cause,” she snapped, and you sighed, shaking your head. 

“Britain. Zephyr. Step out of the room,” you ordered, and the two men nodded, walking out of the medical room and closing the door, Zephyr casting a warning glance at you as he left the room. 

She eyed you, fear radiating off her body, and she said, “You’re different than those years at Starkiller, when I was around Lord Ren after he was around you.” 

You pressed your lips together, eyes lowered to your filthy nails. “I know,” you breathed, drawing a knife and cleaning your nails. You really didn’t want to talk about it, and not in the middle of a gentle interrogation. “What I don’t know, is why Hux decided to bomb the tarmac.” She pressed her lips together, refusing to answer. You groaned, shoving your knife back into your boot and standing. “Carmine, listen to me. Either I find him and he lives, or Samson and the Elites find him and he is executed on the spot. I don’t want him dead, I want him to pay for killing billions of people in the Hosnian system.” 

She sighed, and then said, “It was to scare all of you. To think you hadn’t won.” 

“It didn’t work,” you told her. 

“I didn’t think it would, none of us did. We only follow him because Snoke ordered us to; we all would rather feed him to a bantha than serve him.” She sighed again, trying to hide her anxiety, and then rubbed her face, stitches gently tugging her skin. “Oh, please don’t tell Lord Ren I ratted the General out.” 

“Carmine,” you sighed, smiling at her. “Your lord no longer exists. Kylo Ren is dead, and in him lives a new man. The First Order is no more. The Gray Jedi have won, Carmine. You can join us, or you can go home. We’d love to have someone with your skill.” 

“Is that what Zephyr did?” Carmine asked. 

You laughed. “Zephyr made himself my personal bodyguard, Carmine. He’s a Gray, inadvertently.” 

She nodded, her decision made. “Then I will fight beside my brother.” 

You smiled. “A good choice, Carmine. I hope your legs recover soon.” You left the room, leaving her with her brother, who rushed in after you left. Your heart began racing, and your fingers shook.  _ No, _ you hissed.  _ No. _

Samson caught up to you as you tried to swallow the panic in your chest, and he opened his mouth to speak. “Not now,” you hissed, heading for the exit. 

He set his jaw, and then watched as you fled the base, simply vanishing into the civilian crowd. Your heart raced, and your feet moved quicker and quicker through the courtyard to the oceanside over cobblestone streets, the nearest person as far as a mile away it felt. You crashed into the bitterly cold waves, standing there and looking out over the water. The waves pounded your chest, but you refused to yield. 

You swam out further, ten yards, thirty, eighty, until you came across a little island that you could rest on. The black light danced along your fingertips, and you shook your head.  _ No. No, no, no. I refuse to accept this.  _

It felt like you were drowning, feeling this switch of power. It beat you down, it dragged you under.  _ Fight _ , someone urged you.  _ Fight, or it will kill you. _

You couldn’t recognize the voice, but you fought like hell.  _ I refuse.... To fall, _ you hissed back, and the voice sighed. 

_ My child, you already have. Just breathe; it will be over soon. _

And then it all clicked into place. 

You screamed as it tore you apart, limb from limb, and left you a sobbing heap on the sandy beach of the little island you had so cleverly isolated yourself to. Your entire soul ached, but there was a sense of peace.  _ Finally, _ you sighed, and then you faded from the conscious world, your face pressed into the sand as the crashing waves and sound of popping, burning wood lured you into sleep. 

Anakin stood over you, watching you sleep. Even he was conflicted over your rise and fall, and he sat beside you, brushing your wet, sandy hair from your face.  _ My dearest doctor, _ he murmured.  _ You were never supposed to fall. _

His eyes lifted to where Tattooine sat in the sky, and then back down at you, your hair so dark from the water.  _ Stars, what have I done?  _

\---------------------------------------------------------

_ It was night on Tattooine as  _ Kylo slunk through the desert, to the place where his uncle had been raised. The house was still trashed, but it would do, for now. He jumped down into the ruins, slinking around. As Kylo slid into the deeper structures of the house, stumbling across a kitchen, a ghost appeared to him. With light, sandy hair, and a scar across his right eyebrow, the Jedi was not familiar to him. 

_ You’re making a mistake, Kylo, _ he snapped at him. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” He asked, looking in the cabinets for any food whatsoever. His stomach rumbled, and he couldn’t remember the last time he ate. 

_ I’m your grandfather, you sack of bantha fodder. _

Kylo froze, his stomach dropping to his feet and his heart in his throat.  _ Shit.  _ He continued digging around, his goggles lifted onto his forehead and keeping his hair out of his face. “What do you want, Anakin?” He asked gently, trying to hide his conflicted emotions and his limp -- a target didn’t exactly want to go down, he recalled. The stitches were crude but effective.  

_ How big of a dick are you? My daughter did not live this long to have to deal with a self-serving, arrogant, egotistical, distant, and murderous son! _

“Clearly you  _ loved _ my father,” he snarked, pulling a bowl down. Kylo’s dry sarcasm momentarily shut the Jedi up, but Anakin was not done. 

_ You’re selfish, you’re furthering your own agenda, and you’re acting like the people I killed to bring down the tyranny of the Old Republic! _ Anakin howled, sputtering with anger. 

Kylo turned to him, finding flour and a few other things he could mix to make a loaf of bread. “You done? ‘Cause I’ve got one more person to find and a shelter to make for the night.” 

Anakin huffed, and then pinched the bridge of his nose.  _ Yeah. Yeah, I’m done. I’ve been trying to reach you for the last twenty years, Kylo, and not once have you heard me. _

“Is that why you sent Minerva? So that you could talk to me?” Kylo grumbled, mixing the ingredients in a bowl as he used the Force to spark up a fire. He coaxed it into a warm cooking fire, the heat taking the chill out of the desert night. He put a pan on the fire, and moved to place the bread in the pan.

Anakin stared him down, and then said,  _ Good stars, you’re really striving for the Asshole of the Year award.  _

Kylo slammed the bowl down, glaring at his grandfather. “As the grand champion, are you nervous?”

Anakin flinched, and Kylo took a deep breath, going back to working the dough -- globs of flour still were in the dough. It moved between his fingers, cooling his hands, relaxing his mind as he did his best not to overwork the dough. 

_ I’m sorry, Kylo. I didn’t mean to ever leave you like that. I should have told Luke how young you have to be, how to pick up the midichlorian count....  _

“Well, too late now. The galaxy is in shambles, and in order to fix it, I have to bring down the entire New Republic.” Kylo shoved the bread into a little pan, allowing it to start to cook. He stared at the flame, tugging his tattered clothes closer to his body as he shook from the cold. 

_ Kylo.... _

“Don’t, okay? Just don’t,” he muttered, not looking at Anakin. 

Anakin nodded, and then said,  _ She’s a Sith now, Kylo. _

“Wait, what?” Kylo asked, turning to him with an alarmed gaze. “You mean...?” 

Anakin nodded, looking away.  _ I pushed her too far, fed her determination. She.... She turned to the Dark because the Light wasn’t helping her find you.  _

Kylo stared at the fire in shock, the panic, the rage, the anxiety building up under his skin. “I leave her.... For  _ two weeks.... _ ” As his rage grew, so did the fire. Finally, it came to a head as he screamed out his agony, Anakin flinching away. 

_ What... How did you do that? _ He asked him, and Kylo took a deep breath. 

“Fire is destructive. It is heat, it is passion. But it is also alive. It breathes, it feeds, it  _ needs _ like any living being. And like any living being, it can be controlled.” Kylo pulled a cinder into his palm and stoked it into a flame, showing it to Anakin. “I’m still developing it. It’s.... not conventional. And it’s something I’ll need if I’m going to take down Zhou.” 

Anakin nodded, sitting next to him on the floor.  _ You’re insane. _

Kylo gave him a sad smile. “I know.” He pulled the bread from the pan, sighing as he burned his fingers. He didn’t care, really. He tore into the bread, filling his empty stomach with something sustainable for the first time in a while. The warmth spread through his body, easing his chills. 

_ When was the last time you ate? _ Anakin asked. 

“I don’t know.” Kylo dug deeper into the bread, shoving his mouth full. “But I’m eating now. What does it matter when I last ate?” 

Anakin huffed, and then he said,  _ I have to go. Please don’t do anything stupid between now and my return. _

Kylo snorted, and, with a smirk so like his father’s, he said, “I’m your grandson, Anakin. Doing something stupid is in my blood.” 

Anakin laughed.  _ That it is, Kylo Ren. That it is.  _ Anakin faded from the room, leaving Kylo in the bright light of the fire. 

It lit his features in a pale red, making the bags under his eyes deeper, more sullen. His dark eyes reflected the fire, and he looked at the datapad on his lap. Zhou’s image was there, and somehow, he knew he was walking into a trap. 

But if it meant your safety, indeed, he would tear down every wall thrown his way. He curled up in a ball, using his bag for a pillow and his cloak for a blanket. Tomorrow was important. His fingers closed around the bracelet you’d given him years ago and Dylan’s necklace. The two of you would make him stronger. 

Anakin looked over him, smiling, and then went to Solus, planets away.  _ Solus, _ he urged. 

The dark-haired girl, almost asleep, groaned, throwing her pillow at him. “ _ I swear to fuck! Stop waking me up! _ ” She continued to mutter about the Force and how visions always seemed to come at the worst of times, like when she was sleeping at 3 AM. 

_ I have important information.  _

“Fuck off,” she groaned, rolling over and hugging her blankets to her chest. Anakin smirked, and wondered if this what Leia would have been like if he and Padme had raised her instead of the Organas. 

_ I’ll tell the Doctor if you don’t tell her. _

“You wouldn’t dare,” she breathed, turning to glare at him. 

_ I would. _

She stared at him, and then screamed out her frustration. “Fine! What the fuck is your problem!”

Anakin smirked.  _ I know where my grandson is. _

Solus sat up, staring at him with her luminescent purple eyes. “Now  _ that’s _ something I’m glad I was woken for. I’ll get everyone. Don’t tell anyone else.” 

Anakin smiled. If she only knew, he mused. If she only knew. 

He looked out to the docking bay, where four figures cloaked in the night moved towards a ship, flying towards Nymous like he said. 

_ Yeah, _ he mused.  _ If she only knew. _

\-------------------------------------------------

_ “Commander,” someone murmured, shaking your shoulder. _

You groaned, and rolled over, fixing the lieutenant a tired gaze. “What is it?” 

“Carmine Ren. She, Zephyr, Britain, and Desiree are gone,” he informed her, and you gaped at him.

“ _ What? _ ” You howled, sitting upright in your nightclothes. 

“Carmine. She’s gone.” 

You shoved the officer aside, changing so quickly you didn’t care she was in the room, and grabbed your saber, storming off towards the medbay, everyone in your way scrambling to move before they suffered the same fate as the trooper. Your booted feet were loud as you thundered down the hallway, even Leia moving out of your way, panic on her face. You threw open the door to her private room, and indeed, Carmine was gone. 

“Who was responsible for this?” You howled at the staff, everyone flinching as the hallway went dead silent. “Who?” 

No one moved, volunteered, or even breathed. All the nurses and doctors had stopped what they were doing to just stare at you as you fumed, fists balled at your sides. You tried to calm down, and you took a breath. Samson finally stepped forward, resting his hands on your shoulders. “You need to calm down.” You shook your head, barely able to comprehend the situation. If  _ Leia _ knew? What would she do? How bad would you be punished? 

“I know,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “How did I fuck up this bad?” 

Samson wrapped his arms around you and everything went back to normal, the doctors rushing around and nurses tapping in codes. “We found Kylo,” he murmured, and you looked at him like he was a god, staring up at him. 

“I have to go,” you insisted, shoving away from him and preparing to take off towards the hallways again.  

“No, don’t,” Samson snapped, grabbing your arm. “He’s taking on Zhou. I won’t let you march into danger like that.” 

“Don’t try to stop me,” you murmured, yanking away from him and darting towards your apartment. 

Pickles and Dylan were very happy at your return, Dylan prancing around your feet as you gathered bags from your closet. You were shoving clothes and food into a couple of bags as Leia entered your apartment, softly knocking on your door. 

“Yes?” You asked, stepping around her in your kitchen. 

“What are you doing?” The small general asked, and you shrugged. 

“I’m going to go get Kylo,” you breathed, and she sighed. You could tell she was conflicted, and in all honesty, you were too. You felt the Light bubbling back to the surface, mixing with the dark in this weird slush of power. It felt...  _ good. _ Powerful, even; this was the strongest you had  _ ever _ felt.  _ Intoxicating, isn’t it?  _ A voice asked in your head. You ignored it; now was not the time. 

“Be careful, my daughter. I cannot say what you will encounter there.” Leia hugged you, so tight that you feared she would squeeze the life from you. 

You nodded, hugging her back. “Hold off the gala until I get back. Clean up the tarmac, make sure we’re ready. And for stars’ sake, don’t tell the council what I’m going to do.” 

Leia nodded, smiling. You both knew what the council would do to the both of you if another unauthorized mission was conducted under their noses. “May the Force be with you, Commander.” 

You saluted her as she let you go. “And you, General.” 

She smiled and pet your cat as she left, the gray cat mewling happily at her. You packed dog food and cat food, praying you could somehow make this work. With Pickles in your arms and your dog Dylan prancing beside you, you grabbed the bags and nodded, not really sure when you would return. As you walked out onto the tarmac, Poe fell into step beside you, Finn on the other, Solus and Jake behind you. “What are you guys doing?” You asked them. 

“You need a pilot,” Poe winked, and Solus smiled. 

“I may want him dead, Commander, but I’m not letting you go alone,” Solus smiled, and Jake clapped your shoulder, Finn rolling his eyes. 

“I owe you my life. No way in hell you’re going alone,” Finn smiled, and you clapped him on the shoulder, nodding. Dylan pranced beside you, barking, and Pickles clambered up onto your shoulder, draping across your shoulders as you walked. You smiled, patting his head, and got onto the ship, Rey already inside. 

You gave her a confused look, and she looked at you, hair in her traditional three buns. “What? You think I’m letting any of you have the fun without me?” 

You all laughed, and Dylan barked beside you, and you hugged her. “Thank you, cousin,” you whispered to her. 

She smiled at you. “You may have fallen, my friend, but you are still family, and we all have the same goal.” 

Your smile faded a little bit; you didn’t want to talk about it, but with Rey and Poe at the helm, you all strapped yourselves in, and then you realized what ship you were really on.  _ You were on the Millennium Falcon.  _ It must have been Rey’s now, you figured, and smiled as Rey read your thoughts. “It is mine, now,” she smiled. “And she’s been updated. Her entire systems, everything, is updated. It took months, but we did it.” 

“Hang on,” Poe shouted, and the Falcon lifted off, flying into hyperspace. You laid down on a couch, Dylan curling up beside you and Pickles on your head. You would need your rest. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

_ Kylo awoke with the rising sun.  _

He gathered his saber, left the house, and mounted his speeder, tattered gray clothes somehow blending him into the desert landscape. He’d torn parts of his cloak off to make wraps to protect his arms; he couldn’t stand not having them. 

The town here was deserted, and honestly, he wasn’t that surprised. The majority of Tattooine was now empty, ever since the First Order burned it to rubble. He himself had managed that, he mused. Tore an entire planet to shreds, and nothing would ever come of it. Just like his obsession with finding Luke, when it was Luke that found him. As he walked through the sandy streets, he remembered that this was where Luke was from, where Anakin was from. Everything was taken to a new extreme for him, and then Zhou stepped out in front of him. 

“Really, Ren. I expected more of you. It’s only been, what, two weeks?” Zhou goaded, and Kylo simply engaged his saber, his black hair pulled back in a bun, out of his face. The white light was enough, he figured. 

As the sun continued to rise, Zhou squinted against the light, facing the east. “Smart child, Ren. But you’re  _ mine, _ just like your precious doctor.” 

Kylo stared down at the commander, his black uniform crisp against the rising sun. It was hot against Kylo’s back, and as the second of the twin suns rose, he sprung into action.

The former Sith slid into place in front of the Sith, kicking sand up in the air as their sabers met in a clash of sparks. Zhou sputtered, scrubbing the sand from his face and beard, black hair dusted gold. The second end of Kylo’s double-edged blade met the retreating commander in another flurry of blows, Kylo’s foot swiping at his knee. The commander pranced out of the way, now twenty feet between the two of them. 

Your end of the connection with Kylo was starting to clear out. You’d had him blocked for the majority of the time since he repaired it, mainly to keep yourself from distraction, but he’d still felt every emotion you ever experienced. How he wasn’t able to tell that you’d fallen wasn’t clear to him. 

Zhou stood his ground as Kylo shifted into an attacking position, saber in hand. The black-haired commander gripped his saber, knuckles turning white. 

The wind blew through the deserted town, carrying a scent that would change the world. 

Dust blew up in the town, and Kylo couldn’t see much outside of his own personal bubble. Zhou wasn’t advancing, he knew that for a fact. And when the dust settled, there were people flanking him, beside him, and you stood, proud and strong in front of him. 

Zhou laughed, a soft, manical sound. “What? You have a hunting party now? How  _ ridiculous. _ ”

“Leave him alone, Zhou. It’s me you want, isn’t it? To take me back to your  _ disgusting _ leader like the lapdog you are?” You snarled at him, such vile and hate in your words. 

Kylo had to hide the smile on his face; the first time you’d seen Snoke, he’d left you white as a sheet, cold and clammy, as if you were sick with fear. Now you had been battle-tested, and this new you was fearless. It was a bittersweet change. Zhou laughed again, and Kylo gripped your shoulder.  _ What are you doing here? _ He asked you. 

The bond was finally opened up again, and all your emotions, or lack thereof, poured through, and he finally relaxed.  _ I have a plan, _ you smiled, and you engaged the saber. 

“Come on, Zhou. Are you  _ afraid _ of me? A girl half your age and skill?” You goaded, and Solus stepped up beside you, her twin gray sabers in hand. The sight of them made Kylo sick; he wondered which one he’d used to cut the jagged scar in her back so visible under her halter top, silvery in the warm light.  

In the silence that followed, the jacket you wore fluttered in the breeze, your knee-high black boots stunning in the early morning light. Your hair, now so short, was expertly pinned up, fluttering in the breeze where it was loose. 

Finally, Zhou made an advancement, and you and Solus worked in unison, your footsteps and technique remarkably similar and in sync. Sand was turned into glass where your saber made contact with it and you tore down Zhou’s shields, allowing Solus to drive her shoulder into his stomach and send him flying back. He looked up at you, standing tall and proud six feet in front of him, trying to understand who you’d become in the last two weeks. “Who are you?” He asked you, and you squatted down, hand in his overgrown head of hair. 

“Who am I?” You asked him, and you smirked. “I am a commander in the New Republic. I am the daughter of Khaleese and Drago, from a small backwater planet you’ll never live to see. I am the lover of Kylo Ren. And foremost, my dear  _ commander, _ ” you snarled, “I am a Gray Jedi, regardless of my orientation in the Force.” You stood, dusting off your hands. “Solus?” You asked, and she looked at you, violet eyes red in the orange sun.

“Commander?” She asked. 

“Kill him,” you ordered. 

“Gladly,” she smirked, and as you walked away, towards Kylo, Rey ran up to you. 

“This is not the Jedi way,” she murmured. “I can’t allow you to kill him.” 

“Rey,” you sighed. “He’s tried to kill me, Kylo, Solus. He’s going to keep trying until he is dead. He is a danger to the New Republic, the Jedi, the Elite, and many civilians, and if we do not kill him, he will just become a greater threat.” 

“It’s not the Jedi way,” she murmured again. 

You sighed and fixed her a steady gaze, your voice deathly calm. “Then it’s a good thing I’m no Jedi.” 

Kylo stared at you as you walked past, brown eyes wide. “Where did you- How- Why-” 

You whipped around and kissed him, standing on your toes and your hand buried in his hair. He froze, and then relaxed into you, pulling away after a moment. “Don’t ask questions,” you murmured, smiling. “I came for you.” 

Solus suddenly screamed, and you shoved Kylo behind you, saber immediately engaged as you evaluated the situation. Solus had been thrown off the former Commander, the man’s image now standing. And, by the stars, was he angry. Jake rushed towards his fallen leader, and Zhou sent him crashing into an abandoned cantina, where he did not return. 

He reached out at the group of you, Poe and Finn immediately scrambling elsewhere. But before you, Kylo, or Rey could move, he closed his fist, and Rey and Kylo were sent skittering from you, Kylo recovering much faster than Rey had, the Jedi having been thrown against a wall. 

“You think I can’t handle myself, you foolish girl,” Zhou growled, and you snarled, dodging as his lightning, crackling and a fiery red, zoomed past you. 

You returned the attack, black light leaving your fingertips as you shot repeated bolts at him, stepping closer as you did so. Kylo didn’t follow you, and you went up against the commander, hand-to-hand, your friends unconscious around you, and your anger at new heights. 

Being this close to him, seeing him, would have shaken your resolve two years ago. Now? Oh, now, it was just as much a game to you as it was to him. As your foot went spinning at Zhou’s head, the man sliced at you six times with his vibroblade, three of those slices making contact: one in your left thigh and two in your side, none deep, but enough to piss you off. 

Kylo roared for you to move out of the way, and you did just that, hissing as your cauterized wounds reopened. And there came your prodigal prince, charging down the street with literal fire in his hands, throwing off bursts that lit some of the Sith’s clothes on fire, some that caught the buildings on fire, and others that just smoldered on the sand. 

You ran into the smoking cantina and dragged Jake out, the huge, 6’5 man barely alive. Whatever Zhou did, that attack ruined even the strongest of the Force-users around you. He was far more powerful that it seemed. 

You watched as Kylo took on Zhou, both taking hits. You felt Kylo’s anger, rage, and pain as he was hit, but also his desire to protect you, his need to set things right. 

Rey stirred beside you, and you had to keep a hand on her shoulder to keep her from moving.  _ So you see my point? _ You hissed at her, eyebrows knit. She nodded, brushing sand from her skin. 

You watched, in slow-motion, as Zhou shoved his vibroblade deep into Kylo’s shoulder and sent him flying backwards, running from the scene as soon as possible. 

You ran to Kylo’s side, murmuring and whispering at him as you cradled his head in your lap, pulling him towards you. Rey knelt beside your shaking, stunned form, and gripped Kylo’s wrist, stitching his skin back together from this battle and the previous ones, and then healed you as well. She moved on to the others, Finn and Poe returning with Kylo’s ship. 

“We need to go, Commander,” Jake sniffed, and you shook your head. 

“Warn Leia,” you sniffed, brushing Kylo’s hair from his pale face, “tell her of what transpired here. If I bring Kylo back like this, it’ll only mean trouble.” 

Poe and Finn nodded. “There’s more supplies on the Falcon,” Poe sniffed. “Are you sure you can fly the thing?”

You smiled. “It can’t be  _ that _ hard,” you said, “I’ll figure it out.” 

Poe shook his head, but said nothing. “Stars and Force be with you, kid.” 

“And you, smartass,” you grinned, grunting as you lifted Kylo onto your back.  _ Stars _ , he was heavy. 

They all nodded, and boarded the small ship Kylo had. “I’ll see you on D’Qar,” Finn nodded, saluting you. They all followed suit, and you did your best to return it, Kylo draped awkwardly across your frame. 

You headed down the street, struggling to carry your boyfriend who was surprisingly heavy, considering he was so thin. You found his speeder at the outskirts of town and brushed off the sand, Kylo groaning as you dumped him on the speeder. You dove into the bond, following his memories back to the place he was staying and gathered his items, lashing them to the speeder and then went straight for the Falcon. 

You boarded the Falcon, Dylan looking at you and prancing around you excitedly as Pickles mewed his happiness at your return. You dumped Kylo on the couch, heading to the cockpit and reading the manual. You remembered some of the flight lessons Poe had given you so long ago in college, and you prayed it would still work. 

The Falcon lifted off the sandy terrain of Tattooine, zooming away with you at the helm and tapping in the coordinates. You knew  _ just _ where to lay low. 

Pickles came up onto your lap as you set the autopilot, leaning back in your chair. He mewed at you, pawing your nose gently before touching it with his own. 

“Yeah, Pick,” you murmured, petting him as he curled up in your lap purring, “we’re going home.” 

Dylan jumped up into the seat next to you, his warm brown eyes smiling at you as you pet him too, watching every system go zooming by. How calm everything was. 

\-------------------------------------------

_ Leia waited impatiently for the return _ of the party. 

Her fingers tapped on the durasteel table in her kitchen, a soft  _ click _ as her nails made contact. Her heart raced, and her eyes kept flicking back to the clock. She hadn’t slept; and she felt like something was wrong, very wrong. She ran her and through her hair, the long brown waves so heavily streaked with gray. She once loved her hair; now it was just another battle scar, a marker of what the former princess had been through. Leia started braiding her hair, easing it into an Alderaan traditional style. How she missed her home. 

When the alert that an unmarked ship landed, she ran out onto the tarmac, and down from the loading dock came Solus and Rey, helped by Finn and Poe, and then Jake staggered down on his own. She waited for you, her son, and your two pets to descend, but there was no such thing. 

She felt betrayed. 

As Poe approached, she stared him down, daring him to tell her a lie. “The Commander wished that we leave her and Ren behind, General. I don’t know where they’re headed, nor when they will return,” he informed her, the commander’s curly brown hair and warm eyes tired and worried, not unlike the General’s herself.

Leia nodded. “But they’re alive,” she confirmed, her shoulders relaxing. 

Poe nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Kylo’s pretty beat up, but he’s alive, yes.” Leia visibly relaxed, and hugged Poe so tight he thought his ribs would crack. He hugged her back, remembering the sly general who had drug him from the New Republic to the Resistance, along with all his pilots under him. And now? They were on the verge of a new era of peace in the Republic.... Granted the Republic could figure its problems out sooner or later.  

“Dismissed,” she said, and Poe saluted, heading to rest with his boyfriend in hand. 

Leia smiled.  _ Ah, young love. _ BB-8 rolled up next to the general, the familiar orange and white droid sputtering out codes of binary at the general. “So that’s what they’re doing,” she murmured. 

_ Just a girl from a backwater planet, _ she nodded, and smiled.  _ But still a Gray Jedi. _

When BB-8’s reply came back on-screen, you relaxed, a smug smile on your face, the dim light and whirr of the engines finally lulling you to sleep. This time, you slept in the embrace of Kylo Ren, even if you were in the cockpit and he was not. 

A small smile tugged at his lips as he slept, Pickles wiggling into his arms and sleeping next to Kylo. How peaceful young love is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, sorry for the weird summary. I literally could not sum up this chapter any other way, unfortunately, so there, have some poetry. ALSO: I leave to go to Nationals in Fort Lauderdale TOMORROW!! I plan to write on the way there and on the way back, don't worry, so that's like, 52 total hours of PURE, UNBRIDLED WRITING TIME!   
> Oh, who am I kidding. I'll pull up Microsoft Paint and do one of those scribbly things and dump the paint in, who knows. If I'm bored, I'm bored.   
> Also, I have started writing/plotting for my novel as well, so there's that. It follows Liberty through her journey and I want to throw her out of a window. It's good fun.   
> Until next time, Sid.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you landed the Millennium Falcon, you didn't know what you would say.   
> Your situation is all too real as you and Kylo beg for help from the last place anyone will ever look for you; when things go sideways, you can't say you were surprised, either.   
> "Don't lose hope, Mom. I'm coming home."   
> Kylo Ren is a changed man. How he wished others saw it the same as you, and he supposed there was only one place to start.   
> Lilliana stared off into the distance, with eyes that saw all but yet all was nothing to her. "The science has slowly become realized," she hummed. "The science of staying gray."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO THINGS GET REAL lol jk idk what I'm talking about  
> Sorry for the delay, I got back from a very long road trip that had no Wi-Fi and really no time to write. Here's chapter 14, which was edited and finished yesterday.   
> I'm lame. I'm sorry.

_When you landed the Millennium Falcon_ , you didn’t know what you would say. Your parents came out of their house in the countryside, confused and startled, and you descended the loading dock, smiling at them. “Hey, Mom, hey, Dad,” you smiled, and your mother gasped out her relief, rushing to you and wrapping her arms around you.

Your father soon followed, hugging both of you. You relaxed into their embrace, and then you said, “I need your guys’ help. And you can’t tell _anyone_ that I’m here, okay?”

They looked at you, confused, but nodded. You beckoned them up the loading dock, and Pickles mewed excitedly the second he saw them, brushing against your mother’s legs. Dylan yipped excitedly, prancing in his spot, and you moved to Kylo, still asleep on the couch. You sat next to him, pulling his head into your lap and playing with his hair. He grunted and rolled into you, pulling you closer to him, arms wrapped around your waist and rubbing his face into your thigh.

Your parents sat in front of you, looking at him with a sense of shock. “Who is that, dear?” Your mother asked, and you smiled sadly.

“He’s why you can’t tell anyone I’m here. Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Kylo Ren.”

Your father stared at you, gray eyes narrowed, and then said, “You mean the guy who tried to take over the galaxy?”

“Actually, no,” you hummed. “That would be Hux. Who’s still an asshole, by the way. Blew up the tarmac on D’Qar a few weeks ago. Like it’s a dick move, even for him.” You were rambling, exhaustion clear in your face. “But... You have to understand. The man Kylo _was_ and the man Kylo _is_ , those are two completely different things.” You stared down at him, Kylo tightening his arms around your waist and burying his face into your thigh.

You stared down at him, sighing. _Khaleese and Drago, the Elf and the Dragon. How fitting._

“Why are you here?” Your mother gently asked you, pulling you back into reality. “You haven’t spoken to us since you took that job on Starkiller, and.... Honestly, we thought you were dead.”

“Well, the girl I used to be is,” you murmured. Your parents’ alarmed stares said enough, and your heart sunk as you wondered how you were going to tell them of the atrocities you’ve committed. “I came because this is the last place anyone will be looking for me, and _especially_ him.” You nodded down at Kylo, sighing. “And.... it isn’t fair that I up and left like that. I have a lot of things I need to tell you.”

“Yeah,” Kylo grunted, “you do.” You looked, alarmed, at the now-awake Kylo slowly pushing himself out of your lap, hiding his blush. “Sorry,” he murmured, rubbing sleep from his eyes and looking like a kitten; a rather large, very dangerous kitten, but a kitten nonetheless. He rolled his shoulders and looked at your parents, sleepily saying, “Hello,” before doing a double-take and doing his best to hide his panic. “Uh, okay, where am I and who are these people and _where the hell is my cousin?_ ”

You raised an eyebrow, and then said, “You done?” He took a breath, and nodded, gripping your hand. You nodded, saying, “We’re on my home planet. Rey and Solus are probably back on D’Qar with Leia by now. I don’t know where Zhou is -- I know you’re going to ask -- and yes, I have food.”

Kylo pressed his lips together, and then nodded. “Okay, but who are they?”

You gave him an uneasy smile. “My parents.”

He gave you _the_ Look. The same Look he gave you every time you made a witty comment, or told him that no, he can’t have another cup of tea, or that he couldn’t take Pickles to his private rooms. “That’s nice, but uh, can we, um, _go?_ You know, with what little of the First Order remains trying to kill us?”

“Correction: trying to kill _you._ Okay, wait, no, you’re right, yeah. I forgot Hux tried to blow up the base,” you hummed at him, watching as the rage built under his features, contorting it in an oh-so-familiar way.

“That ginger asswipe did _what?_ ” he howled, and then he marched to the mapping center. “I’m gonna kick his ass-- I swear on my father’s _grave_ \--”

You grabbed his wrist. “You aren’t ready to leave this spot yet, Kylo.” Your parents and Kylo gave you an odd look, and then you said, “Kylo, you know this place. Look around.”

He did just that, and then he looked back at you, choking back tears. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he murmured, and left the room.

Your father got up and left, following him, and you narrowed your eyes, but didn’t do anything. Your mother let out a tense smile, and you sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, dear. He seems nice.”

“He really is,” you murmured. “Once you get past the teeth, he’s really just really scared and fragile and he knows it, so he lashes out at everyone. He used to be horrible, like when I first met him.” You rose to your feet, helping your mother up. “I tried helping him, and I scared him. He ended up giving me seven stitches, but has since apologized multiple times and more than made up for it.”

Your mother moved on, gripping your hand as you wandered down the hallways. “I wonder where your father went.”

Kylo came crashing through an open doorway, followed by your father, his knuckles bloody and Kylo’s face a little more fucked up than it should have been. You shoved Kylo back against the wall and kicked back at your father, daring him to take another swing. Kylo wiped at his mouth, spitting out blood.

“Don’t, Dad,” you murmured, and he glared at you.

“He’s a murderer!” your father howled, and you got right back in his face. You were no scared little girl anymore.

“So am I,” you hissed, glaring at him. “Now I suggest you back the fuck up so I can explain, or you can sit there and be all scowly and angry while I explain this to my mother.”

Your father furrowed his brow, and he murmured, “What?”

“Yes, I’ve killed people. At the time, I really kind of enjoyed it. Now I’m disgusted with myself and I was high off power, but I don’t regret it. It was me or him. The first time? It was self defense, in a situation where either he died, or both Kylo and I died. I _just_ buried one of my soldiers, and I swear if you tell me I don’t know loss, or power, or any of it, then you haven’t really understood what the past three and a half years have been for us,” you snarled, and then you realized what you’d just said.

Your father fixed you a look, and your mother gasped. The daughter she knew would have never snapped back like that, let alone defend herself.

Finally, your father’s hazel eyes turned to you. “Why did you hurt people?” He gently asked you, and you took a breath.

“I was willing to hurt anyone who got in my way, even if they were family,” you hummed back, sighing. “Saving Finn. Finding Kylo. The Force is very real, and it is very dangerous.”

Kylo pulled you into him, arms wrapped around your chest, tight and afraid to let go. You relaxed into him, and then said, “We just need a few more days of rations to get us back Nymous.”

Kylo pressed a kiss to the side of your head as your parents stared at each other in shock. “A few day’s worth of food, and we’ll never bother you again,” he added, and your shoulders slumped. “I’m not the monster I used to be. I promise.”

Your father moved to a port window, staring out at the rain as it pelted the dirt of the world he thought he knew. His entire body was tense, and you knew that posture.

“Love,” your mother finally said, gripping your hand, “this is a shock. To us both. But I’ll make sure you get what you need. I’m just happy you’re alive.” Your mother wrapped her arms around her chest, shaking a little from the cold. Wordlessly, you took off your jacket and draped it over her shoulders, Kylo stepping towards your father.

You couldn’t hear what he said to him. In fact, you didn’t think anything was _said,_ per se, but there was definitely a conversation. You watched as Kylo’s hand rested on your father’s shoulder, and finally, your father, gray-haired and so, so bloody tired, turned to face Kylo, a smile on his face. The two embraced, and Kylo, not entirely sure what to do, gently patted him on the back, and your father came back to you and your mother, Kylo staring out the port window much like your father had.

“We’ll give you what you need.... Tomorrow,” he said, and then grabbed your mother’s hand and led her off the ship, not once casting a look back in your direction.

You sighed, and then went to sit down in the pilot’s seat, head in your hands and your short hair falling over your hands.

The comm buzzed beside you, and you picked it up, staring at it.

_9-00-567-375-1001-3: (23:59) We know where you are._

You took a breath. Jessika’s private number had flashed across the screen, and you weren’t unafraid of the situation.

_4-03-792-104-1993-4: (0:01) You wouldn’t dare do anything._

_9-00-567-375-1001-3: (0:05) Don’t tempt me, Commander. Poe is demanding we go get you._

_9-00-567-375-1001-3: (0:06) Please don’t make me let him go._

You didn’t reply for a moment, staring at the time. When did it become midnight?

_9-00-567-375-1001-3: (0:11) Xavier?_

_9-00-567-375-1001-3: (0:12) Answer me, dammit._

_4-03-792-104-1993-4: (0:15) Don’t come looking for me. I’m safe, where Zhou can’t find me. I’ll make contact by week’s end. Don’t bother coming to get me._

You tossed the comm aside, curling up in the chair, biting back sobs. You felt like you’d let them down, your parents, the Republic, Kylo.... all of them. It was like watching yourself trying to grow and change and then just struggle for the next handhold, barely able to make your ends meet.

It was like college all over again, only this time, you were shit out of friends, shit out of money, and shit out of luck.

Suddenly, you were lifted, held in Kylo’s arms as he carried you to a private room, your arms snaking around his neck as he placed you down on the bed, your tank top slowly riding up to your bellybutton. You didn’t let go, pulling the dark-haired man onto you, catching himself on his elbows on either side of your shoulders.

Okay, maybe you didn’t exactly mean to have _that_ effect.

Kylo’s dark eyes flicked down to your lips, a smirk on his face. “Well, you’re the one who pulled me here. Don’t look so surprised.”

You had to gather yourself to reply back to him, your lips parted to say something, but he had other plans. His hand wound into your hair and his lips pressed insistently on yours, gently pulling you off the bed and into his arms. You moved with him, arms reattaching around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist, and lips moving in sync with his, your hands winding back into his hair like they’d never left.

“I missed you,” he hummed, wiping away the drying tears.

“I missed you too,” you smiled, pouncing on him hard enough to pin him to the bed, your lips trailing across his jaw and to his ear, the former Sith lord gasping at your advances and shoving you under him, effectively pinned by his hips and weight.

He proceeded to leave trails down your skin that burned like fire, whether it was with his fingertips or lips, as he shed you of your clothes and you shed him. Your body burned, and your soul craved him like it’d been years since you and him had been together like _this._

And, indeed, it had been years.

You couldn’t tell if being drunk on the Force was as pleasing as being drunk on him, his skin, his touch, his breath-- everything he seemed to do to you was hypnotic, and you would never, _ever,_ ask him to stop.

His hair tickled trails into you as he kissed your belly, making you giggle and laugh as he made stupid faces at you too. But something made it different, you figured.

Maybe it was because you finally felt _whole_ again.

Your hands knit into his hair -- _stars,_ how you missed it -- as his kisses trailed to your inner thigh, and he left you gasping and begging at his touch, begging to be his, begging to finally just _feel him again._

He spoke to you through the bond, singing your praises, about how good you were, about how beautiful you looked, and how he would spend the rest of his life memorizing how your face and body looked because he wanted it to be the last thing he _ever_ thought about. The person that made him the happiest in his life, always on his mind, until the last dying breath.

As he lay pressed into you, your pulses slowing, Kylo slipping into a peaceful sleep for the first time since long before Starkiller, you clung to him, clung to how he made you feel -- because if someone tried to take him from you again, you would tear this entire galaxy apart.

_My little warrior,_ Kylo hummed through the bond.

_Please don’t call me that,_ you murmured back, nuzzling into his chest.

_Very well.... My love,_ he chuckled back, and you smiled, draping your arm across his bare hip. _You’ve changed so much,_ he finally said.

_One thing hasn’t,_ you replied. _My love for you. That never has, and never will, change. You know why?_ You asked, looking up at him.

_No, why?_

You pushed at his shoulder, lying on top of him so you could look him in the eye. “Because I love you, you fucking asshole,” you giggled, kissing his nose. “No matter what you’ve done, no matter what who you’re becoming, I will always love you.”

He stared up in shock at you, hands on your hips, and finally sat up, forcing you back onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist, and then he sighed. “I can’t say who I’ll be when this is all said and done.”

“Neither can I, Skywalker,” you giggled, and he smiled, oh so gently, and looked away, that gentle dorky look on your face that you fell in love with.

“Why is it that when you call me that, it seems like such a better thing to be?” He asked you, brushing your short hair out of your eyes.

You smiled. “Because Rey, Solus, Luke, and Leia aren’t bad people, Kylo. Neither are you, at heart. You did what you had to. Your grandfather was a little fucked up, yeah, I’ll give him that. He’ll probably kick me in the ass for that later, but whatever.”

He smiled, wrapping you in a tight embrace. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you hummed back, smiling. “Did I tell you Leia made me a commander? Unofficially?”

“What? No!” he laughed, and then tickled you in the sides, causing you to fall backwards onto the bed, Pickles yowling in surprise.

An hour of tickling later, you hobbled out of bed, barely able to breathe and glaring at the smirking, gorgeous man who still lay in your bed, tugging on his shirt and a pair of shorts from your bag, heading to a place where you could make some _fucking_ tea.

As you pulled the steaming kettle off the heat, Kylo came behind you and pressed a kiss to your neck, pressing you flat against his chest. The warmth that flooded you was unmatched, unparalleled by anything you’d ever felt. You smiled as he smiled against your neck, softly asking for a cup as well as you struggled to get free enough to grab a mug for him.

“You know,” you muttered, sighing, “I have to return the _Falcon_ back to Rey. We should probably clean that room before we give it back.”

“Who says you have to give it back?” Kylo chuckled, pressing kisses to your fingers as you attempted to make tea with one hand, carefully counting out the leaves and making sure to pay Rey back for it.

“Because it’s _hers,_ Kylo. It’s not your birthright to inherit the _Falcon_ simply because you were conceived here.”

Kylo shook his head. “Leia tell you that?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he tried to hide his blush.

“God, what else did she tell you?” Kylo groaned, hiding his reddening face in her hands.

“That you had an obsession with engineering,” you sighed, bringing him the cup of tea once it was done.

He shrugged. “There’s worse things she could have told you.”

“She usually broke down crying before she could, Kylo,” you sniffed, and Kylo flinched.

Mentally, you kicked yourself for saying that. How could you betray her and him like that? But Kylo took a breath and centered himself. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“So should you,” you shot back, and then you stood, vanishing from his sight as you headed for the cockpit. Your comm was still on, taking notifications, and you sighed, picking it up.

_9-00-567-375-1001-3: (0:56) Xavier, you’re making a mistake._

_9-00-567-375-1001-3: (1:34) Answer me!_

_9-00-567-375-1001-3: (2:06) Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when Kylo bites your ass._

You groaned, flipping to other senders. Some were from Leia, just checking up on you; one was Poe, screaming bloody murder, and then, a blocked number.

_Blocked: (3:33) I know who you are, where you are, and who you’re with._

_Blocked: (3:34) But don’t worry, I’m an ally._

_Blocked: (3:34) I can help you take down Brendol Hux._

You stared at the comm in shock, and when Kylo came to check on you, you handed it to him.

He paled, and then he sighed, tapping on the screen.

_4-03-792-104-1993-4: (4:45) Who is this?_

_Blocked: (4:46) Oh, hello, Kylo. Good to see you again, dickhead. It’s Anna._

Kylo froze, and then his brown eyes flicked towards you, his pale skin illuminated with the faint blue light of the comm. “It’s an ally,” he murmured. “I know her. She’s loyal, fierce, independent, and deadly. She’s from the Armament; Samar’s friend.”

You nodded, and relaxed. “I’m going to get some sleep. If you’re awake when my parents get here, wake me up. Try not to get into a fistfight with my father again, please.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling. “Or you can join me,” you murmured, fading into the room.

He smiled, but sat down in the cockpit, Anna’s second message coming through.

_Blocked: (4:48) I need to talk to her._

_4-03-792-104-1993-4: (4:49) Absolutely not._

_Blocked: (4:50) Come on, Kylo. I can help you!_

_4-03-792-104-1993-4: (4:51) I said no._

He took a breath, watching the rising sun from his spot. It must be summer here, he thought, smiling as the golden hues started to break the misty gray of the pre-dawn.

_Blocked: (5:10) I can help you bring her back._

Kylo stared at the notification, his heart sinking down into his stomach. He could sense it on you, how strong you were in the Dark. Even if you had just truly fallen, it was his fault he couldn’t save you. And now, what does he have to show for it?

His scars from the months of torture were still pink and raw in some places, and as he turned from the sunrise to the room you slept in, he finally realized what all of this means to him. Soon it would be time for him to come home.

_4-03-792-104-1993-4: (5:15) Anna, I have a favor to ask._

_Blocked: (5:16) Anything._

Kylo took a breath as his thumbs sailed across the screen, quickly typing out the reply he needed to say. His thumb hovered over the send button, debating if he really wanted to ask, and then he tapped the button, the little _fwip_ sound of the message being sent flying through the still air on the _Falcon._

_4-03-792-104-1993-4: (5:18) I need you to help me track down and capture Brendol Hux, to be delivered upon my command to D’Qar._

Kylo could feel the wickedness of the smile Anna had on her face. She wasn’t one to smile, but when she did, you better know she was damn well excited.

_Blocked: (5:19) You don’t even need to ask a favor for that, Kylo. We’ll do it for_ free. _You’re welcome._

**_Connection terminated._ **

**_Messages erased from database._ **

Kylo sat back in the seat and smiled at the rising sun. These next few weeks were going to be very, very good weeks.

\--------------------------------------

_Leia Organa stared at Jessika, the_ tanned fighter pilot/mechanic that worked oh-so-closely with Poe Dameron and Finn, her face in stone. “So you’re certain she’s with Kylo Ren.”

Jessika nodded. “You can ask the party she was with, General. She left with him, and has not returned.”

“What about my brother? Can he track them?” Leia asked.

Jessika shook her head. “Regardless if he can or not, he refuses to. He says that this journey they’re on together is critical to the survival of this Republic.... If there’s enough of one by the time they get back,” she spat out.

Leia raised an eyebrow, her graying hair held up by a braided headband, the rest tumbling down her back as the general combed it out before she put it in its night braid. “What do you mean?”

Jessika sighed, pinching the bridge of her small nose, almond-shaped eyes closing as she grunted out her frustration. “Your _son_ has killed every corrupt senator and council member in the galaxy.”

“Certainly there are a _few_ left,” Leia sighed, and Jessika smiled.

“Only a few, Miss. But those killed? Evidence was left that they were tied to the First Order. In some cases, they were even Sith. What we _don’t_ understand,” Jessika hummed, leaning back in her chair and popping her back, “is how he was able to kill all of them in the span of a few weeks.”

Leia smiled. “It wasn’t just him.”

Jessika gaped. “Who would help him?”

Leia stood, saluting the girl. “Thank you for your information, Pava. I will be in contact with you when the time is right.”

She narrowed her eyes, but nodded, saluting and exiting the room with her dismissal.

Leia sunk back into her seat with her head in her hands, elbows propped on her desk, gray-brown hair tumbling around her in sheets. Now who could Kylo get to follow him like that....?

Leia’s hands immediately flew from her hair to her comm, paging someone suddenly _very_ important into her quarters.

A few minutes later, Samar entered the room, her dark hair pinned back at the base of her skull in a simple bun. “You called for me, General?”

“Yes...” Leia paused, and then said, “Are you comfortable answering questions about your time with Raph Neihaus and the Armament?”

The panic that flickered across her face was enough, but she nodded. “I will do my best to help you, General.”

Leia leaned over the table, fingers knitted together, eyes tense. “If Raph Neihaus were to be killed, where would authority fall within the Armament?”

“Either whoever killed Raph or the most senior on the ship,” Samar hummed, almost immediately.

Leia smiled, leaning back in her chair. “And you’re certain it was Kylo Ren who killed Raph?”

Samar nodded. “As certain as I am that he was my former master on Starkiller, Ma’am.”

Leia nodded, smiling. “Samar, I think it’s time you go back and visit your friends at the Armament.”

“Why, if I may ask,” Samar hummed, dark skin blending her into the fading light.

“Because,” Leia smiled, standing, “I have reason to suspect your former master is their new master.”

“I have no way of knowing where they are. I haven’t heard from Breeah in years,” she hummed back, her voice low but still sing-song.

A gentle knock came at the door, and Samar went to open it at Leia’s command. “General, we found her stalking around the grounds. She claims she needs to speak with you and Samar,” the officer huffed, and Samar stared down at the turbaned, blue-eyed girl.

“Breeah?” Samar breathed, looking at the beaten, broken girl laying at her feet. She stooped and helped her friend up, steadying her with strong hands. “Breeah, my God, that is you!” She looked to the officers, and then said, “Dismissed.” They saluted, leaving and closing the door behind them.

Breeah smiled, clutching at her friend. “Samar,” she breathed, and then stood straight, clutching her ribs. “Both of you. Kylo Ren is our leader in the absence of Raph. Anna sent me with a message for you, General.”

Leia stood up, staring at her, a singular dark curl of hair falling in Breeah’s face. She tossed it out, wincing as she moved, and then saluted. “Miss, your son had passed a message from him to Anna, and then Anna to me.” She dug around in her bomber jacket for a moment, and then pressed a wrinkled, creased envelope into Samar’s hands. “If you will give it to your general,” she nodded, and Samar passed it to Leia, opening the envelope first.

Leia took the letter from Samar, scanning it. Tears filled her eyes, and then she nodded. “Samar, get your friend to the medical wing. She is clearly injured and needs to be treated. And mention this letter to no one, understood?”

“What about Arabella and the commander?” Samar asked, supporting her friend’s weight.

“You may tell Arabella and Xavier,” Leia sighed. “Though I have a feeling if the commander herself doesn’t already know, she will discover it soon. Dismissed.”

As Samar helped her friend to the medbay, Leia sunk down into her chair. It used to be so, so comfortable. Now it was old, rugged, worn, like her weary bones.

Maybe when this was all over, she could finally rest.

As she prepared for bed, she thought about the note Kylo said, and the last thing on the note. _Don’t lose hope, Mom. I’m coming home._

She smiled, and then thought, _There really is a science to staying gray, isn’t there?_

As her head touched the pillow, her mind was full of the son she knew, of Ben, of Han, and most importantly, of you, and how much of a daughter you already were, regardless if you knew it or not.

She loved you like she loved her own. Her prodigal son and daughter, working together in harmony to bring each other back to the light where they belonged. How beautiful, and how unknowingly ironic.

\-----------------------------------------------

_A few weeks after the battle_ of Crescent Base, Lilliana was in town gathering materials for her recent venture into candle-making, Beetee rolling along beside her. The cantina next to her was loud and busy, as always, and she didn’t think anything of it, until two men stumbled out of the cantina, dusk on the horizon.

“Miss, can you help us?” One asked, and both hid under their hoods, shying away from her piercing blue gaze.

“Depends on what you need help with,” she hummed back.

“We’re lost, and we can’t seem to find a place to stay. We don’t want to risk staying out in the open, not here,” the first one hummed, the taller of the two.

Lilliana nodded. “Alright. Grab your comrades and come with me.”

They looked at each other, and then dove into an alley, pulling two girls with him. Lilliana nodded, and together they headed back.

“You know, it’s been three years since Starkiller Base exploded,” Lilliana huffed, “and I may be out of practice, but I can still tell when I’m in the presence of three Knights of Ren and a deserter.”

All four froze, looking between each other. Liliana turned, shifting in her wheelchair. “Well? Who’s the leader?”

Finally, the man who’d spoken to her took his hood down, staring at her in shame. “Me. I’m Britain Ren. These are my comrades, Zephyr Ren, his sister, Carmine Ren, and the deserter, Desiree.”

Everyone nodded, but Desiree tossed her fiery red curls out of her eyes, dark freckled skin absolutely glowing in the sunset. “At your service, m’lady.”

Lilliana nodded. “Ah, more lost souls. You’re but _children._ Oh, if Dylan were here,” she hummed, and Britain lit up like a christmas tree.

“You knew my sister?” He asked, and Zephyr had to grip Britain’s shoulder to keep him from running to the redhead.

Lilliana looked up, smiling. “Aaah. So _that’s_ who you four are. Britain Kazmarek.... Yes, I was very close with your sister. And you, Zephyr, I knew your mother. Both of you.” Her eyes flicked to Desiree, and then she said, “An orphaned, bastard child. That’s what you were born into, Desiree, when you were taken by the First Order. I’m glad you are writing your own destiny now, as is the Force. It has so many good things planned for you, for all of you.” Lilliana paused, and then popped her spine, wincing, and then said, “All you four need to do is come with me. I can teach you.”

“Teach us what?” Britain asked as they kept moving, turning ‘round a tree.

She didn’t answer for a few moments, and then she turned, saying, “I can teach you how to find yourself.”  

The four looked past the vines she held back to see a rushing waterfall, a beautiful clearing, and jumping fish. They looked on, stunned, and moved forward as if in a trance.

“Remember,” she said, stopping them. “Once you go in there, you won’t come out until you’re new people. Maybe it’s a shift in your priorities, or something becomes clear to you. I can’t tell you what you’ll find in there, and I’m sorry for that.”

They all exchanged looks, and then pushed past the vines, heading into the unknown.

Lilliana smiled after a bit, wheeling away. Oh, how needed it was that they learned the science of staying gray. It’s a beautiful thing, she figured as she wheeled up the back ramp of her house and set her items on the table, humming a tune. How beautiful it is to march into the unknown.

Beetee beeped a friendly greeting at her, the black-and-gold droid pushing a basket with a blanket and the rest of Lilliana’s supplies in it towards her.

“Oh, Bee, did you grab this for me?” Lilliana asked, smiling as she pulled the blanket over her shoulders.

Beetee whirred, her equivalent of sighing, and started to roll away. _No. That was for the cat, you dork._  

As if on cue, Elmer jumped onto the table, meowing and demanding her attention. She sighed, draping the young tomcat across her shoulders as she looked towards the clearing where the three Knights and the deserter remained. The place was sacred, and Lilliana knew it. The redhead took off her scarf, her fiery hair falling free in curly locks about her face, Elmer happily toying with one of the said strands. A sigh escaped her lips as she got to work, humming a pretty song as her hands moved over her materials, creating the things she would soon start selling.

She looked back at the clearing later that day, a smile gracing her lips. _The science has slowly become realized,_ she hummed. _The science of staying gray._


	15. Sisters Lost, Brothers Divided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I stand here all alone, and I can see the bottom.... So promise me you'll try to leave it all behind, 'cause I've elected hell lying to myself. Why have I gone blind? Live another life....."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yes hello I'm not dead!  
> I'm sorry for the super long delay for a super short, cryptic, non-plot-relevant chapter. I have no excuses, just my own laziness and lack of inspiration. Lucky for you and me, I got my mojo (jojo) back. Nothing like watching Sunday night football and avoiding human contact to get you writing. Anyway, today is 9/11, a very somber time in recent American history. This chapter goes out to all the fallen brothers and sisters that are our first responders on the day when we needed them most, and for all our soldiers both domestically and internationally deployed. All of you are my heroes, and I hope to be alongside you one day.   
> Rest in peace and semper fi!

_ Minerva Solus stared at the ceiling  _ in her little workshop in the bunker network under the D’Qar base. Her hair was tied up, a messy, knotted mess in her restlessness during the nights you were away. A girl slept next to her, loosely wrapped around Minerva’s  _ very _ awake body and mind, bare skin brushing bare skin. 

The girl beside her shivered; Minerva pulled the blankets from around their feet and over her sleeping form, the girl nuzzling into the blankets at the former captain’s breast. 

As Solus turned her attention to the girl beside her, she recalled that she could not remember her name; only that it was a rush to get from the officer’s bar to her bunker, the tanned girl a stranger, like the others before her.The room stunk of sex, a scent that had most likely been engrained into Solus’ very body.  All the men and women that came through here were like her current partner: nameless, beautiful and forgotten by morning; the scoundrel was starting to wonder if there was  _ anyone _ on this planet that she hadn’t slept with. 

Her mind flicked to you, and her worry for you. She didn’t know if you were even still alive, but she had a feeling that it was meant to be that way. Wherever you were, you were needed there, as she was needed here, in a way. Finally, she grabbed her datapad, and tapped your number. 

_ Blocked: (4:43) Xavier? _

_ 4-03-792-103-1993-4: (4:44) Who is this?  _

_ Blocked: (4:44) Sorry. It’s Solus.  _

_ 4-03-792-103-1993-4: (4:45) This is Kylo.  _

Solus paused, tapping the side of her screen to debate what to say next. She had her answer; at least Ren was alive, and with a way of contact. If he was alive, so were you. 

But she digressed. 

_ Blocked: (4:47) Oh. Hello, cousin. Am I interrupting something? _

_ 4-03-792-103-1993-4: (4:48) My chances of sleep. She’s sleeping, if that’s what you wanted to know. Alive, and very well.  _

_ Blocked: (4:49) Oh, that’s good. I’ll leave you alone then. _

Solus went to put the pad down, but the screen flickered back to life, showing the text from Kylo, illuminating the dark room with his plea. 

_ 4-03-792-103-1993-4: (4:51) No, wait.  _

_ 4-03-792-103-1993-4: (4:51) I need to talk to you.  _

Solus paused, and then sighed, her fingers flying over the screen with rapid speed and deliberate accuracy. The girl shifted uneasily beside her, shielding her eyes from the harsh light of the datapad. 

_ Blocked: (4:52) I’m here. _

It took several minutes for his reply to come through, despite having showing he read the statement. Whatever he had to say, it was painful for him to say, she figured. He was always quick to say something, especially when he had it to say.  

_ 4-03-792-103-1993-4: (4:59) I’m sorry for everything. I saw the sabers you used and all I could think of was which one had the death of so many innocents on it.  _

_ Blocked: (5:01) It isn’t the blade’s fault. It’s the weilder’s.  _

Solus terminated the connection, leaving him to decide what to do about her statement. Her arm draped around the sleeping girl beside her, and Solus slipped into a trance-like rest, her mind wandering the expanses of the universe that she saw alongside Han Solo and Chewbacca. 

_ “Leia,” Han had murmured, holding her tight. “I saw him. I saw our son.”  _

_ Solus watched from afar, her hair tied up in an intricate knot and at attention as her general passed by. Han released Leia after what seemed like forever, and then she heard a: “I am looking for one Captain Minerva Solus.” _

_ She immediately stepped forward, her body rigid, and her men looking at her in shock.  _

_ “Han, who is this?” Rey asked as Han stepped towards Solus, attention unwavering.  _

_ “This,” Han said, finally wrapping her in his arms, “is the daughter I chose to have.”  _

_ Solus hugged him back, arms tight around his torso, and holding back her tears. “Please don’t go after him,” she murmured in his ear. “I can’t say for sure that I can protect you.”  _

_ He smiled at her, eyes sad. “I have no choice, Min-Min. There is still good in him. I can feel it.”  _

_ Solus nodded, and then said, “Then I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety.” He finally released her, and she snapped back up into attention. Rey cast her a weary eye, and Solus’ eyes followed her as she walked away. How odd it was that the sisters lost were found by the same man.  _

Solus wiped tears from her eyes when she woke up, the bed beside her cold and empty. Not surprising, really, she figured, but it would have been nice to get a goodbye. She pushed herself out of bed and gathered her scattered clothes, tossing them in the pile to be washed, and got dressed, her shaggy hair now in a misshapen mess tossed about her head. She’d deal with that later. 

A soft knock came at the door, and Solus sighed, heading to open it. 

She expected Leia, or you, or even Poe or Finn, but this was something else entirely. 

Rey shifted in her spot, clutching her old staff and looking down, away from Solus. “I.... I want to talk to you,” she hummed, and Solus wanted to tell her no, that she had said all that needed to be said on the way back from Tattooine, that it was as it was before Solus had said anything. They weren’t sisters, they didn’t know each other. Just strangers fighting the same war. 

“I think you said all you needed to say,” Solus spat out, violet eyes silent-- too silent.

“No, I didn’t,” Rey murmured, and then said, “I’m sorry, for everything I said. For treating you like that. I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.” 

Solus rolled her eyes, but felt her honesty. “That’s not all you came here for, is it?” 

“No,” Rey sighed. “What was it like? On Yavin-4?”

Solus gave her a look of confusion, trying to understand what in the living hell the girl was looking for. “You mean at the temple?” 

Rey nodded, and Solus grimaced. “Alright, come in. This isn’t something I can explain with you standing outside my door looking like a kicked puppy.” 

She stepped past her sister, Solus shutting the door behind her. “It was.... Peaceful there. Not much ever really happened, save for the extreme training incident or something.”

“What was Ben like?” she suddenly blurted out.

Solus raised her eyebrow. “You want to know what your cousin and I were like in those days?” 

Rey nodded, and Minerva took a deep breath, eyes settling on the bottle of whiskey from the night before. She took a large swig out of it, steadied her nerves, and then said, “Kylo and I were good friends. We.... never fought much, were almost inseparable. However, you loved him more than I did.”

“I did? I thought he tried to kill me,” Rey commented. 

“He did, more than once while he was at the temple. Most of those incidents were unintentional and you were unharmed, but Kylo was troubled. He loved you so much Rey, you don’t understand. Everything he did was in an attempt to save you from what he was becoming. Now, what his intentions are...” Solus shook her head, looking away. “I cannot say. 

“He loved you and I enough to understand something was wrong. He went to Luke, but there was nothing he could do. I guess it was always meant to happen that way, not that I can attest for anything. It’s all just a matter of time, I suppose, for him to turn to the Dark.” Solus finished by pouring both her and Rey a glass of water, pressing the cup into her hand. 

“What made you turn away? From being Snoke’s puppet for the rest of your life?” Rey asked, and Solus sighed. 

When Minerva had gathered herself, she fixed Rey a violet gaze. “You,” she murmured, throwing back the water like a shot. 

Rey’s eyes registered shock, as if it never occured to her that her sister might care so much for her. “But.... why?” 

“You gave me something to live for,” Solus grunted out, stretching. “Are you satisfied?” 

Rey just sat there numbly, her dark clothes such a stark contrast to who she was as a person. Solus thought it odd that she wore such garments, but her time as a Jedi must have meant much sneaking around. 

“What are we, Min-Min?” Rey suddenly asked. “I’m Light, you’re Dark.” 

“Sisters,” Minerva said, and then shrugged. “I think Leia is looking for you.” 

Rey nodded and left Minerva’s bunker, staff over her shoulder as she left. 

“Sisters lost,” she muttered after the door was sealed shut, taking another large swig of whiskey from the bottle. 

\--------------------------------

_ Britain Kazmarek was a man of _ many talents, but understanding his brother was not one of them. 

As he played holochess with Desiree, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to Jake, who was somewhere Force knows where doing stars know what and  _ there was nothing he could do to stop it. _

Desiree tossed curly red hair out of her brown eyes, reaching across the board and gripping his hand. “Jake will return to you when you are ready,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Britain shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, his voice wounded and hardly what the quad was used to-- especially from their leader. 

Des tilted her head, warm eyes inviting him in, coaxing him to relax; and somehow, he did. His heart slowed, his mind calmed, and suddenly, Britain was  _ very _ aware what she was doing to him. He ripped away his hand, flinching back and drawing attention from the Ren siblings. “ _ How did you do that? _ ” Britain demanded, blonde curls falling into his face. 

“Kazmarek, what’s wrong?” Carmine asked, and with a sudden press on her mind, he was able to share exactly what Desiree did. 

“What? What did I do?” Desiree asked, standing up and pulling her overcoat closer, the hood bundled up around her neck as she pulled the sleeves down over her hands. 

Zephyr cast a wary glance at his sister, and then understanding flooded his features. 

“You, Desiree,” Zephyr hummed, “are an empath.” 

“What’s that?” She asked, and then, “Why did Britain react the way he did? Is it bad?” 

Britain took a breath. “You can manipulate people’s emotions, and that is good and bad. It depends on what side you’re on.” 

“So... does that make me Force sensitive?” Des asked, and Zephyr nodded. 

“I’m afraid so, little one,” Zephyr hummed, and then carefully pet her hair, pulling her into a hug.

Britain took a step away from the situation, seeing the love and support for her pouring out into the small group. His heart shattered, or what was left of it, and he faded into the shadows, well aware that this is not where he belonged. 

He wandered south for a while, and then settled on a stump to try and meditate. His mind explored the life around him, and he gained strength from that, but the moment his focus wavered, memories of life before Ren flooding him. 

_ “Britain,” Jake said, staring at his shocked and numbed brother. “What did you do?”  _

_ The blade dripped with blood as Britain didn’t move, staring at the limp body of their mother in shock. Their father applauded Britain, with the heavy words of, “I knew I could count on you.” _

_ “Britain!” Jake howled, shoving him out of the way to get to his mother, Britain stumbling back. Both of their hands were coated in blood, Jake crying as their mother faded from this world.  _

_ “Why?!” Jake howled, whirling to face his brother. “Why her!”  _

_ Britain stared at him in shock. “I.... I didn’t.....”  _

_ Jake howled, the taller brother tackling Britain when he was unable to answer his brother  and throwing him to the ground, the elder twin hitting the floor harder than Jake intended. Britain was knocked unconscious on impact, laying limp beneath his brother. Jake got off him, and his lips moved to form a statement-- _

Jake gripped the seat in front of him with an iron grip, his face sheet white as the memories came bleeding back. Samson stared at him, eyes and hand on his lover in an attempt to comfort. “Jacob,” Samson sighed, smoothing his hair back, “what’s wrong?”

Jake looked at him, eyes wide and pained. “Britain,” he grunted, barely holding on. 

“ _ You were always the favorite,” _ Britain hummed out, his nails digging deep circles into his palms as he felt his brother return the call. It was time for them to talk. 

Samson tried to drag Jake out of the vortex that Britain was sucking him into, but to no avail. He watched as his boyfriend slipped into unconsciousness and into his arms. 

_ Brothers divided, _ Samson sighed, carrying the heavy, tall captain back to their shared quarters, tucking him into bed and awaiting a communication from you. 

Jake stared Britain down, aware but not, and his elder twin stood, eyes flashing. “So you’re here.” 

_ Not that I want to be. _

“You wouldn’t be here unless you knew I had something decent to say.” 

Jake didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything at all. Britain eyed him up and down, rooting his brother to that spot and daring him to do something about it. The Resistance captain stared the former Knight of Ren down, anger flaring in his eyes. 

_ You killed her, you know. _

“I did not!” Britain howled, and the world around them changed, placing them in his--no,  _ their _ \-- memory of the event. 

The room was darkly lit, and their father sat at the edge of the room on a throne like the damned ruler he was, leaned back in his chair. And just like that, it was gone. Jake, their father, all of it. One moment and it was gone. 

Britain huffed, sitting down on the stump and cradling his head in his hands.  _ Brothers forever divided, it seems.  _


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh father, why have they forsaken me?   
> You warned me that they would;   
> the curse is passing down the bloodline,   
> unspoken and misunderstood.   
> We're losing light  
> and strength of will,  
> the darkened depths beckoning still,   
> then we hold on   
> against the tide."

_ Kylo’s arms were sleepily latched around  _ you as you heard your father calling you. 

You sighed, pulling yourself out of bed, wandering down the hallways with one of Kylo’s shirts on your shoulders and your sweatpants loosely hanging from your shoulders. You looked up at your father, who caressed your cheek, then pulled away; helping your mother and father load the  _ Falcon _ was your main and only priority. 

“Will we ever see you again?” Your mother asked you, and you shrugged. 

“I cannot say. It is as the Force wills it,” you hummed out, stacking the crates and shutting off the anti-gravity. It gently settled onto the ground, the holds of the  _ Falcon _ still much larger than the amount of supplies needed for two people, a cat, and a very hyper dog. 

You hugged your mother tight, and nodded at your father, who had a growing bruise from fighting Kylo the night before. You saw the distrust in his eyes, the wariness of both Kylo and you, of who you became. You understood his pain. 

“We’re starting over, Dad,” you told him. “Luke Skywalker, Rey, all of us. We’re starting over.” 

“So another power-hungry reign can take over?” he spat out bitterly. 

“That is not the goal, but it is as the Force wills it. There is balance, Father, in the Force. Kylo, Solus and I, we exploit that. We are the strongest in the galaxy because of it.” You looked to your mother, and smiled. “If you need me, call out for me. I will hear, and I will come.” 

You then turned your back to them and headed up the loading dock, pulling the dock up from under you and sealing it shut with a few taps of the control panel. Kylo walked towards you as you made your way to the cockpit, the man pressing sleepy kisses to your neck. “Good morning, princess,” he hummed, his warm breath tickling your neck and his voice like sultry love on your ears. 

“About time you woke up. Had to load the  _ Falcon _ all by my lonesome,” you teased, and the former Sith simply chuckled, pressing deeper kisses onto your neck and wrapping his arms around you. 

“Shame,” he hummed. “Could’ve sworn your father would have killed me if I showed my poor scarred face ever again.” 

“He probably would have,” you mumbled out. “We have to go, Kylo.” 

He groaned, his lips vibrating against the skin of your jaw. “But that’s just....  _ Lame. _ ” 

“What’s lame is you thinking with your prick,” you joked, and he laughed, punching you in the arm. “So let me fly, you piece of shit,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him.

He backed off you, hands in the air. “Fine, fine, but may I ask,” he smiled, slipping into the copilot’s seat, “where are we going?” 

You lifted the  _ Falcon _ off the ground and out of the atmosphere, setting the hyperspace coordinates and then you sat back in the seat, relaxing. “I hate flying,” you grunted, and Kylo laughed. 

“That makes two of us, love. Now, where are we going?” 

“D’Qar,” you replied bluntly. 

Kylo panicked, leaping out of his seat. “No. No, no, no, love, anywhere but there.” 

You sighed. “Kylo, you have to face them. You have to face what you did!” 

He pinned you into the chair, a wild look in his eyes and his grip on you almost deathly. It had been a  _ long  _ time since you saw that look on his face. “I cannot go back now,” he hummed, and you nodded, reaching up and pressing your hand against his cheek, pulling him in the chair on top of you. “I’m not done.”

“You, Kylo Ren, Ben Solo-Organa, whoever you are or whoever you’ll be,” you grunted out, “are going to have to pay for what you did. They’ll order your execution. Luke will ask for life in prison, because of the Jedi you gave up.” 

“What will you ask for?” He breathed, face inches from yours. 

“The same punishment as you, for falling in love with the man behind the monster and for my own crimes,” you hummed, kissing him and gently pushing him back into the copilot’s chair. “But we can delay it.” 

“Just.... land somewhere else first, and then go to D’Qar,” Kylo hummed, kissing you on the forehead. 

“I won’t leave you again,” you snapped. 

“Well, the  _ original _ plan was to go to Nymous and lay low for a while!” Kylo snapped, and you groaned. He was right; you’d decided to change the plan last-minute, without warning. 

“So you have things you still need to do,” you hummed, changing the coordinates on the ship. 

“Yes.” 

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I hate you, you know.” 

He laughed, gripping your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. “I’ll come back, don’t worry. I  _ always _ come back,” he hummed, tugging you closer and biting your earlobe, causing an illicit sigh to escape your mouth. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you murmured, trying to calm your body down. 

“Don’t say your goodbyes so soon, princess. Still got a while to go,” Kylo smiled, and he settled back into the chair, Pickles meowing for his attention. 

You sighed, relaxing a bit with a smile on your face. How odd your life had become. 

\--------------------------------

_ When you landed on D’Qar with  _ the  _ Falcon _ , many faces greeted you on the tarmac. Jake rushed to you first, his arms tight around you. Soon you were surrounded by everyone, people cheering for your return. The crowd parted, however, when Leia came through. Her sad brown eyes looked up at you, Dylan licking at her hand for her attention. Rain started to fall from the gray skies, dampening the ground. 

“Where is Ben?” Leia asked, her voice broken. 

You looked to her, your smile a tight-lipped expression, pressing your hand to her cheek. “He will come.” 

With that, you wandered away, Dylan at your heels and Pickles draped across your shoulders. The crowd parted before you, and Solus stood at the edge of your path, eyes dull and tired. She looked as if she’d been through hell, stressed and overtired. 

“What now?” she hummed, and you simply stepped around her, walking numbly towards Force knows where. She reached for your hand, but before she grabbed it, she dropped her efforts, grimacing. 

Jake pulled up alongside Minerva, and said, “What’s up with her?” 

Solus’s eyes were fixed on your retreating form, limping slightly and Pickles stretched across your shoulders. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Preparations for the gala commenced as planned. A week passed, almost without your knowledge. The emptiness in your chest and the silent, agonizing pain in your mind seemed to be what took up most of your time. 

_ Is this what heartbreak feels like? _ You remembered asking yourself at one point, Dylan asleep beside you on your bed. You wished it was Kylo. 

The alarm beeped on your nightstand and you slammed your fist down on it, almost shattering the poor thing as you hauled yourself out of bed. Anakin stood worriedly above you, saying, _ Are you alright? I've been avoiding talking to you, mainly because the whole Sith/Jedi thing really kicked your ass. _

_ It kicked yours too, _ you shot back, and he nodded, agreeing with you. 

_ Exactly why I'm asking. _

You took a breath, centering yourself. Anakin had been present, but never said anything to you. He was there to comfort you, to remind you that the metamorphosis you went through only two months before was done and that you had changed yet again; only this time, you didn't feel much more than pain for your missing lover. 

Your comm beeped, and the message appeared on the screen from Leia. 

_ Three more senators. Message reads that there are no more.  _

Hope filled you; maybe he would come back! Maybe you and he could run away and be free and never worry about this again.

But you knew it would never happen. 

Wistfully, you got up and took a shower in the 'fresher, wringing out your wet hair with a towel as you listened to Anakin jabber about one of his favorite missions. At any other time, you would have silenced him, but this was calming, homey. You could have a family here. You stood, gathering the black dress from the closet and slipping it on, the gold-studded corset piece almost choking the life from you. Using the Force, you pinned it in place, all while Anakin clicked his tongue. 

_ That is an inappropriate use of the Force, _ he chided, and you raised an eyebrow. 

"Tell that to your grandson, who so wonderfully used the Force--"

_ Forget I said anything, _ Anakin panicked, and you smiled. 

"Stop panicking, Anakin," you said, pointing finger guns at him. 

His face went from embarrassment to an almost unreadable resting bitch face. _ Never, ever, try to use that pun on me again.  _

You pouted and started to pin your hair up, carefully applying your makeup in the mirror. 

You stood in the doorway of your bedroom once you were done, looking out over your living room, Dylan lazily draped over the couch and Pickles neatly nestled beside him. You were all prettied up, that week after you'd last seen Kylo. 

How you missed him.

The doorbell rang and you opened it with a wave of your hand, Samar and Arabella standing on the other side of it. Samar whistled whilst Arabella studied you, nodding approvingly. "If I were gay, and you were gay, we'd _ so _ be getting laid tonight," Arabella coughed, and you almost howled in laughter at the so out of character comment. 

"Thanks, Ara. You look beautiful as well," you smiled, studying her simple dress shirt with nice trousers. She was never one for dresses. 

Samar, on the other hand, wore a more elegant dress than you. It was red and gold, studded with pearls and-- force, were those diamonds?-- that complimented her dark skin tone beautifully. 

"Ara and I have a plan," Samar smiles, pulling a little vial of something out of her sleeve. "This is just a mild hallucinogen, but it'll be entertaining to watch the crowds react to it in the punch." 

A wicked grin cut across your face, and you nodded. You were in at  _ mild hallucinogen. _

It was easy to sneak the vial into the gala. No one bothered with a security check; everyone knew everyone and it wasn’t like there was an immediate threat. Speeches were being given, pleasantries exchanged; you mingled a bit, Samar and Ara on your flanks as you all scoped out boys to manipulate to your bidding. 

Your thoughts lingered on Kylo, but you did your best to send it to the back of your mind. Ara took you by the hand, leading you out into the crisp, cool air of autumn on D’Qar, and took something out of a hidden pocket in her dress. She lit it with a match, and took a long drag off of it. Samar followed the two of you shortly after, and Samar took a drag off of it as well. You weren’t an idiot; you knew it was probably some drug of some sort, but when it was offered, you took it. 

The three of you talked, sitting outside and giggling. You’d discovered spiking the punch was Ara’s idea; Samar had procured the drug from the labs, and you, oh, you, knew  _ exactly _ what to do. When you went inside, trying to act sober, Samar went up to the punch table, the room thrown in brilliant golds and whites and the men in all black and women in beautiful dresses, andyou followed, eyes on the bartender. 

“What can I get for you, Commander?” he asked kindly, and you smiled, leaning onto the wood bar.

“Ah, what do you have?” you asked, winking, and Arabella snorted somewhere behind you.

_ That’s what you call flirting? _ She snorted, and your face didn’t change as the bartender listed off all the things he could make for you, the Queen of the Resistance. You didn’t mind the title, but the  _ real _ queen was Leia and everyone damn well knew it. 

_ Shut up, Ara. You’re distracting me, _ you shot back, and finally you asked, “Something fruity, please. I don’t care much for dry drinks.” 

The boy nodded, and a soft nudge from Samar told you that the job was done. You retrieved your drink from the boy, winked at him, almost  _ cackling _ at the nervous smile and blush that had crept up on his cheeks after the type of Force energy you’d been pushing towards him, and the three of you toasted, sitting on the marble steps of the hall the gala was hosted in. Marble pillars reached up thirty, forty feet into the arched ceilings, beautiful paintings in between the peaks. It was like a temple, a cathedral dedicated to celebrations. It was breathtaking. 

At least, you would’ve thought so if you weren’t already high and well on your way to drunk after your third drink. 

You three were laughing at all the poor people who had become your little guinea pigs, loopily dancing and attempting to grind to the music. Finn and Poe were off in the corner, making out. You doubted they were affected by the drug; they hadn't had anything to drink the whole night. Not like they needed to be high or drunk to get all over each other like a couple of horny teenagers, anyway. 

Dylan yipped happily beside you, wearing a little bowtie and resting his head gingerly on your lap. You blinked in confusion; you hadn’t dressed him up or brought him. With a shrug, you figured Leia had grabbed him from your room. His warm brown eyes looked about, growling at any man who got too close to you. 

A sharp cough came from above the three of you, and you looked up to see Solus and Leia angrily staring down at you. “Alright, which one of you three spiked the punch?” Leia asked, and the three of you exchanged looks and laughed, sipping at the punch. 

“We don’t know,” Arabella giggled out, Samar snorting. 

Solus sighed, hauling you up by your shoulders. You teetered dangerously, giggling and holding onto her like she was your lifeline. “Are you  _ drunk _ ?” Solus demanded, violet eyes sharp.

You grinned. “Nooooo,” you giggled, leaning onto her shoulder and wrapping your arms around her neck. “Carry me, Captain!” 

Leia watched with a mixture of horror and amusement as Solus literally swept you off your feet, carrying you into the dark hallway away from the loud music and people. Arabella and Samar, both of whom were considerably  _ less _ intoxicated than you, followed, Leia helping the two women out. 

Dylan followed at Solus’s heels, whining as she gently set your feet down. You felt her call on the Force, and your body was washed of the alcohol and drugs, clarity restored to your mind. A sarcastic remark bit at your tongue, but you decided to hold it; it was bad enough already. You stood up, looking away from the group and smoothing out the heavy skirt of your dress. “Sorry,” you murmured, avoiding Solus’s caring, searching gaze. 

“It’s quite alright,” Leia sighed. “I’ll be honest with the three of you; spiking the punch was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen. I never thought I would see Snap, Poe, and Jessika  _ this _ intoxicated.” 

You sheepishly smiled, Samar and Arabella starting to slink off into the shadows, when you called, “If I’m going down for this, so are the two of you.”

Arabella simply raised her hand and said, “These are not the girls you’re looking for,” and ran off with Samar. 

“Traitors,” you muttered, crossing your arms. You looked to Leia, and said, “It was Ara’s idea. Samar spiked the punch. I flirted with the bartender to keep him distracted.” 

Leia smiled. “I know. I saw you.” 

You groaned, cradling your head in your hands, when you got this warm, fuzzy feeling from your connection with Kylo.  _ You look beautiful, _ Kylo hummed, and a few seconds later, Hux was thrown on the floor out of the shadows. 

You looked on in alarm, staring at the ginger general who only glared up at you with hate. His face was gaunt, eyes icy and pale. He’d lost a considerable amount of weight, looking almost anorexic in his white tank shirt and khaki cargo pants. It’s silent, almost too silent, as your voices faded down the corridor. Your Bond moved, it shifted, and it opened. The onslaught of Kylo’s emotions hit you like a ten ton cruiser, knocking the wind from you, even more than the wholeness you felt when you were with him. You turned down the hallway towards the place where Hux might have been thrown from, and there he was, saber blazing in the dark. You felt every emotion, and Solus grabbed you by the back of your dress to keep you from running to him. You reached out mentally, pulling, begging in ways words couldn’t describe.

But Kylo looked on. He can see it in your eyes. He can see how much you've changed, and how scared you are that he won't love you, as if he hadn’t already addressed this. He took his saber in hand; you felt the same conflict from him the night Han died. His father. Solus grit her teeth, then walked away. Kylo paid her no mind. His eyes turned to his mother, and then he slid the saber on the floor over to you. You bent down, gingerly picking it up and turning it over in your hands, the black metal warm in your hands. Leia gasped, and slowly, Kylo went down on his knees and said, “My name is Ben Solo, and I’m here to surrender.”

Seconds later the sirens went off, and everything seemed to go into slow motion. The soldiers that were on duty that night came rushing down, blasters trained on him as they circled him. His dark eyes never left yours, and Leia’s face fell into shock and joy and elation, among many other emotions. She burst out crying, and Kylo--no, Ben, you told yourself-- looked away from you and her, and your words echoed back to him. 

_ You have to pay for what you’ve done. _

You went to rush towards him as the guards arrested him, Hux being dragged away shouting, but Leia grabbed your hand. The red lights in the hallway washed everything in malicious shadow, glinting off Ben’s eyes in a broken haze. 

_ And what will you ask for? _

You broke away from Leia, dropping Ben’s saber on the ground and trying to rip the guards away from him, shouting  _ Just take me too! Take me with him! _ Force knows your heart lay with him anyway. 

_ The same punishment as you. _

With a glance, he rooted you to the spot, freezing your body to the point where you couldn’t move. His voice, strong and clear in your head, the only thing that broke through the pain and love and anger and fear in it, was powerful. 

_ You will not suffer the same fate as I. _ His eyes bore into yours, until he was turned away and led down the hallway.  _ I swear it.  _

When you were far enough away from him, he released you, and you fell to your knees, the metal hallway around you being torn apart by your pain. When you scrubbed at your face in your agony, your hands came away wet; when had you started crying? 

Solus gently picked you up, Dylan following her. Even the pet Ben had given you seemed sad about the events that just occurred.

His words echoed back to you: 

_ You will not suffer the same fate as I. I swear it.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYYYYY what's up my dudes??   
> I'm glad that there are those of you who stuck around to see me come this far. We are only a few chapters from the end, I believe, and shit just got real (painful).   
> Summary is Against the Tide by Celldweller. This song makes me cry, guys, I just can't. I hope you guys have a lovely rest of the weekend and may October bring you a better month than what you've had.  
> Leave comments below! if I missed something in editing, please let me know. I think I'm back in the swing of things when it comes to writing; this was originally supposed to be the last chapter of the story in my original plans but lmao naaaaah i have about six more characters to fuck over.   
> :)  
> Sid out.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Where did we go?   
> How could we stray so far away?   
> Delusional, tell me that we’re not the ones to blame.   
> I suggest you walk this lonely road to find redemption and become a hero.   
> Resolution, don’t watch the eyes; never mind the words....
> 
> A million miles away, it seems that I don’t belong in this place.   
> Is there another way?   
> I find myself closer to a satellite...."

_ Leia Organa stared at the animal _ that was once her son, in a cell behind bars where he belonged. He lay, in his prisoner’s uniform, on a cot, breathing even and seemingly unaware that she was there. Stars, how he’d grown, and how she’d missed him. 

Scars were laced across his visible body, some self-inflicted, others not. Dark bruises clouded his pale skin, most likely from Hux. Mostly-healed marks along his visible neck were a yellowish color, and she smiled when she realized they had been from you. Other than that, he seemed to not be wounded. She released a breath that she didn’t know she was holding. 

Leia debated leaving. She wasn’t supposed to be in there, anyway; what if he hurt her?  _ Killed her, _ like he did Han? 

_ He won’t, _ she heard your voice say. She wasn’t sure if she should trust your judgement or not. You, too, had your own Skywalker drama. Ben was her  _ son, _ though. He even said he was Ben. 

_ My name is Ben Solo. And I’m here to surrender. _

A sob escaped her lips and she slid down the filthy brick wall, curling up into a tiny ball with her knees hugged to her chest. Leia screwed her eyes shut and pressed them into her knees, until she heard a gentle, “Please don’t cry.” She looked up, and in the time she’d been crying, Ben had moved to sit on the floor across from her, his eyes red from crying himself. It broke her heart, seeing the pain that lay behind those eyes. He didn’t deserve any of the pain that he’d received, not, at least, in the beginning.

She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how much she  _ loved him _ regardless of what he did. As she opened her mouth to say something, he said, “I don’t know what I should call you. I doubt you want me to call you Mom, or General, or Leia, or even Miss Organa, or if you want me to call you anything. I just want you to know,” he rattled on, “this isn’t your fault. What I am, what I’ve done, is my fault. My obsessions, my passion, my  _ need _ for power, to be someone better than the Jedi Luke wanted me to be played me. Snoke played me. I was his  _ fucking _ puppet and I didn’t even realize it.” He scrubbed at his face with his hands, sighing. The silence grew longer, until Leia took in a shaky breath.

“You can call me Mom,” she murmured. “You are my son, Ben. You always will be.” 

“I understand,” he murmured, looking away. Then, as an afterthought: “I don’t deserve it.” 

And her heart broke again, shattering into tiny, tiny pieces on the duracrete floor of the cell. His own awareness of the pain that lay ahead of him was terrifying to her, as if he’d  _ known _ the entire time what he was doing. And who was she trying to fool; she knew damned well he knew what he was doing. She could feel it. And to her, that made the fact he was guilty so much more  _ worse. _

It was silent after that for a moment, Leia trying to study her son in an attempt to memorize how he’d matured, grown, since she’d last seen him. Finally, she opened her mouth and said, “Your crimes are not the same as Armitage Hux’s. You deserve at least that.”

“Excuse my interruption,  _ General, _ ” a new voice said, “but this  _ traitor _ doesn’t deserve anything.” 

Ben flinched; but the voice was eerily familiar, and he looked up to see Minerva Solus staring down at him, as if she were any better than him. He wondered if she had killed anyone else, like he’d killed so many. 

 

“Hello to you too, Minerva,” Ben hummed in response, eyeing her as she stepped into the room. Her violet eyes were lit in a blaze of anger and hatred, almost murderous intent written on her skin like the tattoos splayed on her back, like the scars he’d left on her. Apparently, Ben mused, Minerva just couldn’t take a damned hint. 

“I should kill you, for what you did to me and my little sister,” she snarled, and Leia stood up, stopping the dark-haired girl at the shoulder. 

“Minerva, don’t,” Leia snapped, and the violet-eyed woman took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her fists.

“I didn’t know you were my cousin,” Ben finally said, confused. 

“Surprise, I’m your cousin, jackass,” Minerva snapped, and then with a final shove of Leia’s, she left the room. 

“I’m sorry about her,” Leia said, reaching through the bars to carress Ben’s cheek. “She’s upset over something you had no control over.” 

“I didn’t. I had no control, but when I heard Rey crying, I.... I couldn’t do what Snoke was asking of me. That’s why Han....” Ben’s voice trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. Leia nodded, understanding. 

Well, she didn’t understand. She was angry, she was hurt, and she was scared, both of her son and for him. But she could listen and be there in ways that she couldn’t have been when he was young. Regardless of what he said,  _ some _ of it was her fault;  _ some _ of this could have been prevented, whether he felt that way or not. 

Her comm beeped, displaying a message from Samson, enticing a heavy, frustrated sigh. “Ben, I have to go. Your fiancee is raising a shitstorm with Solus, apparently.” 

“I don’t have a fiancee,” he snarked, but a smile cut across his face, and he nodded. “Try to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” 

“There’s lightsabers involved,” Leia muttered. “ _ Someone _ is going to lose a hand.” 

Ben snorted as she left, running down the hallways to see you spinning your sabers, a group of soldiers around the two of you doing their best to keep it contained, even if it risked their lives. 

“You don’t  _ fucking _ touch him!” you howled at Solus, your gold sabers clashing against her gray. Leia watched as the crowd lurched back, sparks flying.

“I  _ didn’t _ ,” Solus hissed back, and Leia made her way through the crowd, finally shouting, “ _ ENOUGH. _ ” 

Solus had you by your hair, your face contorted in anger and pain but with no intention of stopping. She didn’t release you, but Leia didn’t order her to. If she did, Leia figured, Solus would probably lose her hand-- or her head. 

“Commander Xavier and Captain Solus, I have  _ many _ questions as to  _ why in the  _ **_kriffing_ ** _ Force you would do such a thing! _ ” Leia howled, and Solus paled. Your face relaxed into an unreadable expression, and with a wave of Leia’s hand, Solus dropped you. 

“My apologies, General, it will not happen again,” Solus grunted as you hauled yourself off the ground. 

“Speak for yourself,” you grunted, and Talia and Phasma came rushing around the corner, with your friends in tow. You wondered when they’d been released from their cells; Phasma wore a Republic command uniform, and Amena in a Resistance doctor’s coat. Britain took one look at the situation, and then growled out,  _ “What happened?” _

“Lieutenant Kazmarek, contain your brother,” Leia growled, and Jake stepped sharply on his brother’s toe. 

“OUTTA MY WAY, KNAVES,” came a sharp, playful yell, and through the group came a redhead on a wheelchair, and behind her was Britain, Jake, Carmine, Zephyr, and Desiree, along with Luke and Rey who seemed entertained by the aftermath of the skirmish they witnessed and all dressed in shades of gray. 

“Lilliana?” you asked, your face lightening up at the sight of her. 

“Hey, dude, heard you were in trouble,” she smiled. Solus looked incredulously at her, and Lilliana smiled at her with her bright blue eyes. “On behalf of the Order of the Gray Jedi, under the tutelage of Luke Skywalker and Britain Kazmarek, I humbly invite both of you to join our ranks.” 

A murmur went through the crowd. A new Jedi order? What if this one ends like the last? 

But something told you that it wouldn’t. 

Leia caught eyes with Luke, who was beaming and barely containing his joy. 

_ Light and Dark. Unified.  _ A smile cut across your lips, and it cut the tension of the room, allowing Solus to draw up alongside you, almost immediately unifying yourselves. It was a comfort to you, being able to  _ trust _ Solus even if she directly disobeyed your orders, even if she didn’t understand what Kylo meant to you. With a practiced, synchronized movement, you two coupled your respective sabers, placing them in front of you, knelt down, and pressed your foreheads to the ground. When you looked up, in unison, the two of you said, “I would be honored to join the ranks of the Gray Jedi.” 

Lilliana smiled, and said, “I’m glad. Rise, Captain and Commander. We are lucky to have you.”

The two of you rose, and you hugged Solus.  _ I’m sorry,  _ you told her, and she shrugged. 

_ No one lost a hand. It’s fine, _ she smiled, and you snorted, gripping her hand. You gained some odd source of comfort from her and her presence, like she was meant to be around you. 

And, if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

_ Time went by. You were forbidden _ from seeing Ben, and for a month, you wandered, waiting, praying. It had been a month and a half since your two weeks on the  _ Falcon. _

You sat on Amena’s examination table, getting a checkup. The hospital dress you wore was paper-thin, a cold draft cutting through the air. Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the draft or the anxiety. It was moments of agonizing silence as she reviewed your blood test results, and finally you said, “Well?? Is it good?”

Amena’s tight-lipped reply sent your heart sinking into your chest. Everything you had hoped for, everything you had planned for, was now falling apart. None of this was going according to plan. 

“You know I have to remove you from active duty, effective immediately,” Amena sighed. 

“Wait,” you murmured. “I have to tell Ben first. He has to be aware of it before the plantiff can throw it out of nowhere and shock him like that.” 

Amena only agreed, tucking a stray curl back under her scarf. This one was blue, patterned with lothcats, one of the many wild animals on Solus’s home planet of Lothal. You dressed yourself and went to the hearing for Ben, sitting beside him and gripping his hand tightly under the desk. It was the first time you had seen him since his return. Your greeting had been clipped, short, tense; he didn’t ask what was bothering you, probably assuming it was the trial itself and your stress over it. 

The Council was tense. It was dark, and the grip of Solus’s hand on yours told you that the last time she was in here, it didn’t go well. You were surprised when she had chosen to sit next to you, the ceremonial katana that she carried clipped firmly to her side. The Mandalorian history she carried with her, despite not being raised there, was significantly stronger than her attachment to the Republic. Her right hand sat on it at all times, ready to draw in the event of something catastrophic. When you asked her why she chose to sit with you, she said,  _ You’re my family. I can’t leave you out there, not now, not ever. My actions were hasty and I should have cleared it with you before going to talk to Ben. I’m sorry. _

The very fact Solus had gone to the extreme to flat out apologize and eloquently word her apology was enough for you to thank her. But you wondered if they sensed it on you, the stench of a failure whose life was about to drastically change. The durasteel tables were cold, the lights colder, and the air as frigid as a frozen Hell. You presumed that if there was a hell, you were already in it. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, had. 

Halfway through the hearing, you had to excuse yourself. Your face had turned a pale green, and Solus helped you to the public ‘freshers just in time for you to empty what little you ate that morning into the toilets. Solus calmly held your hair back, as outgrown and unkempt as it was, and rubbed your back as your body convulsed under her touch. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve been there,” Solus smiled. She offered you a wet washcloth, gently wiping your face when you couldn’t muster the energy to do it yourself. She also brought you a glass of water, helping you gently sip it as your body adjusted to the violent ordeal it just put itself through. 

“You have?” you asked her, and she nodded. 

“I’ll explain someday,” she hummed, her undercut beautifully designed. 

You began to wonder what it was that you wanted from her, why her touch brought the same comfort that Ben’s did. And then, you questioned what she wanted from you. 

“Solus,” you began, and she nodded, gently wiping out the vomit from what hair she wasn’t able to get. “Why are you so invested in me?” 

She paused, violet eyes looking up from their job to look for an answer, and then her eyes returned to her work. “I don’t know.” 

_ She’s lying, _ you thought to yourself, but felt the discomfort radiating off of her, and you decided not to push it. 

A soft knock came at the door and Arabella stepped in, her hair hanging about her face in blonde sheets. “I didn’t mean to interupt, but the Council has called off the rest of the court until you’re feeling better. They don’t want to potentially skew the results of this trial by forcing you to testify whilst not feeling well.” 

You nodded, and relaxed into the durasteel stall door. “Thank you, Ara.” 

She nodded and left the room, her leather jacket rippling as she moved. 

Solus looked at you from her crouched position, her arms resting on her knees and violet eyes boring into yours. “Where do you want me to take you?” 

“My apartment, please,” you requested. “Avoid the populated areas. I don’t want to answer questions I’m not fully ready to answer.” 

“Yes, sir,” Minerva smiled, saluting you as she gently picked you up and smuggled you through the empty hallways of the base. 

You tapped in the entry for your room and Solus pushed open the door with her foot, Dylan yipping excitedly at your return. She set you down on the couch, her vest and white shirt making her look so much like the Solo her cousin was. She smiled, turning to go, but you caught her by the arm. 

“Solus,” you said, and scooted over on the couch. 

She smiled and laid down behind you, gently wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m here,” she hummed. “I’ll help you through this, for as long as I’m around.” You took some solace in that, your unconditional trust in her so renewed, and Dylan flopped down on top of the two of you, quickly falling asleep. Pickles clambered into your arms, and you slept so peacefully, knowing you were safe, that no dreams plagued you. When you woke up, however, a new Force ghost awaited you. 

_ Hello. _ He said, eyes surveying your sleeping body. They were probably blue or green at one point, and his hair was peppered, but most definitely a ginger. 

You sighed and gently untangled yourself from the sleeping pile of animals and Solus.  _ Give me five minutes to make coffee, and then we can talk. You’re a Jedi, I can feel it. _

He only nodded and faded from visual representation, though you knew he was still there. You made coffee, like you said, and grabbed a granola bar, carefully munching on it as you sat on your counter, the ghost appearing to you again. 

_ So what do you want? _ You asked kindly, crossing your legs. Solus stirred beside you, nuzzling her face into your side. 

_ I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, young one. And I came to make sure that you understand the situation you’re in.  _

You flinched.  _ I understand. The rebirth of the Force, in its entirety, rests on this.  _

The stress you felt was undeniable, unforgettable. And Ben, what would he think? Would he leave you? Run? In the name of the  _ Force _ , what had you done? 

Obi-Wan gave you a small smile, the warm feeling of someone gently gripping your hand in consolation filling your mind.  _ I am truly sorry, my dear. But you must tell Ben.  _

You sat on the edge of the couch, your head between your hands and the steaming cup of coffee on the table, watching the steam out of the corners of your eyes. Stacks of books and research papers you’d written in your spare time were strewn about, and you said, “I should have never taken that job at Starkiller.” 

“Do you regret the last four years of your life?” Solus asked from her position in your lap, and you didn't even stumble. 

“Yes,” came your breathless reply, and Solus nodded, sitting up next to you.

“I thought you might,” Solus nodded, her hair freshly cut into an undercut, and she took your hand in hers. “I don’t regret meeting you.” 

“You are a wonderful person, Minerva,” you began, “but I don’t like what I’ve turned into. Who I’ve become. I was a  _ scientist,  _ doing research. A neutral party when all of this began. For the past year and a half I’ve been trained to kill, trained to fight even if there are political and diplomatic ways out of the situation. I am not a warrior, Solus.”

“I never asked you to be,” she breathed, looking away from you. It was as if she was disappointed in herself, being the one who trained you. 

“I know you didn’t,” you soothed, “you only asked of me to help you find Kylo. Potentially, if need be, fight him. So here we are, Solus. He’s here. What else do you want from me?” 

Solus opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she closed it again, looking away from you. “Nothing,” she finally said, and then she stood. “I’ll see to it that the charges are dropped against Ky-- Ben. Against Ben,” she amended, eyes lowered, and she left the room. 

_ Your time here is limited, Doctor.  _

Anakin’s voice was crisp, clear, and leveled. You looked up, seeing him standing behind Obi-Wan, with his hands on his shoulders. 

_ You would benefit from leaving. Now, _ the redhead amended. 

“I can’t leave them. Not without saying goodbye,” you murmured. 

_ Do what has to be done. _

You swallowed nervously, and then nodded, rising and requesting an audience with the Council, Leia and Solus included. 

“High Council, I come here to inform you of my immediate resignation from the Resistance and the Republic,” your voice echoed across the chamber room. “We are no longer at war, and even if we were, my term was until the capture of Ben Organa-Solo, which we have since achieved. My presence and expertise is no longer welcome here, nor is it needed.” You looked to Leia, her face carefully expressionless, and Solus, who was shocked but not surprised. The head of the council huffed, crossing his skeletal arms as he eyed you up and down. 

“What if we refuse your resignation?” he growled out, thick Coruscanti accent bleeding through his careful words. 

You smiled, the same kind of smile an assassin gives a target. “Let me rephrase my previous statement, Councilman. Apparently I was too kind.  _ I quit,”  _ you snarled, turning and leaving the room, cape on your shoulders billowing behind you. 

You went back to your room, finding Rey and Luke standing at your door, clearly worried. “Can I help you?” you growled, though your anger wasn’t directed at them. 

“Rumor has it you’ve quit,” Luke murmured. 

“Not rumor. You were eavesdropping,” you grunted, walking in your room and gathering all your bags and started packing. 

“You’re going to break Ben out, aren’t you,” Rey asked quietly. 

You looked up from your task, shocked. “I was considering the option, yes.” 

Rey nodded, and then said, “Good. Take the  _ Falcon. _ ” When you went to protest, she raised a hand. “It is a Solo inheritance. You are a Solo, and I am not. It belongs with you, not me.” 

You only nodded in agreement, smiling kindly, but dumbly as well. Her kindness was not something you had earned, nor was it something you deserved. 

A loud thunderclap came from outside the base, though none of you flinched. Rey and Luke helped you pack up all your things, loading them onto the  _ Falcon.  _

Rey smiled sadly at you, her eyes tired and worn. Luke gripped your shoulder, smiling sadly at you. “Do what must be done,” he spoke softly, and you nodded. 

“Of course, sir,” you murmured back, and they left you standing under the edge of the  _ Millennium Falcon _ , the rain pouring down. 

You took a breath to gather yourself and went inside, immediately heading for the cell holding Ben. The guards outside disappeared at your order, and you slipped past the door, keying in the code to open the barred portion of the cell. 

“Ben,” you whispered, shaking his shoulder. He stirred under your touch, groaning. 

“Babe, five more minutes,” he grumbled, and you hissed through your teeth. 

“Ben, if we don't go now, I will be arrested for treason. Let's  _ go.  _ You can sleep on the  _ Falcon, _ ” you quickly reasoned, and the dark haired man sat up, alert and awake. 

“What did you do?” He hissed under his breath. 

“You,” you chuckled, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the cell. 

You two ran, hand in hand, down the halls of the base, avoiding guards and somehow managing to make it, relatively unhindered, down to the launch bay. It was still raining, but the presence of two ignited sabers in front of the  _ Falcon _ caught your attention. 

“It's Solus,” you groaned, and then shook your head. “You know what, forget this. Let's go.” 

You dragged Ben with you, the tired man sleepily ambling about behind you. “Where are you going,  _ traitor?” _ Solus barked at you, and you sighed. 

“You know why I have to do this, Solus. And I'm not a traitor; my intentions were clear from the very start,” you called back out to her. 

She sighed, and you called your saber into your hand, the gold staff igniting in a blaze of fiery light. 

It was a standoff for a moment, and then Solus disengaged her blade, walking towards you and wrapping you in a tight hug. Her leather jacket and hair were soaked, and she was cold to the touch, but she still seemed to trust you. 

“Please stay safe,” she murmured in your ear, and you nodded. She pulled away from you and patted Ben on the shoulder, smiling. “Congratulations, Ben. I'll be in touch.” She began walking away, and then turned and shouted back, “What do you want me to tell them?” 

You thought for a moment, and then replied, “The truth.” 

Solus nodded, disappearing down the open corridor. 

“Let's go. We have about two minutes before she is forced to sound an alarm.” You dragged Ben up the loading ramp of the  _ Falcon _ , running for the cockpit. 

“Is that enough time to get out of the atmosphere?” Ben asked you, settling into the copilot’s seat. 

“I never ask that question until I've done it,” you shot back hastily. “Angle the shields.” 

He did so, and you two took off, hitting light speed before you even broke atmosphere, and quickly made the hyperspace jump from there. 

You sighed and leaned back into the chair, smiling. 

You were  _ free.  _

Ben leaned over from the copilot’s seat, a confused look in his tired eyes. “Why did Solus congratulate me?” 

You smiled tiredly, leaning forward and gripping his hand. “Benjamin Organa-Solo,” you smiled, “you're going to be a father.” 

He sat in shock, a smile on his face, and then he laughed. A true, happy, loving laugh, and scooped you up out of the chair and spinning you around. “This is wonderful! This is going to be the best time of our lives, love, I know it,” he smiled at you, showering you with kisses and affection. You squealed, shoving him away, only to have him start pressing kisses to your belly. “I'm going to try to be the best father anyone could ask for,” Ben smiled up at you from his knees. 

You smiled down at him, tears streaming down your face. “I know you will, Ben. I know you will.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

_ “The treason of the former commander, _ codenamed Christina Xavier, is inexcusable,” the High Council called out over the assembly of the Resistance's forces. The scattered pilots and Elite squads, only about two hundred in number, were cramped into one small announcement facility out in the elements of D’Qar. “If she returns,” the High Chairman continued, “shoot on sight, do not negotiate. She is dangerous, highly trained, and lethal. She will kill you, since apparently she has no regard for Resistance lives.” 

Poe Dameron stood in the front alongside Finn and Jessika, effectively tuning out the rest of the speech. All he could think about was the corruption he fled within the Republic, only to find it here, in his home, people calling it on his friends. He’d be damned if he wouldn’t say anything. 

“All due respect, sir,” Dameron cut off, “but Xavier saved most of our  _ lives. _ Everyone knows someone who she saved, and we all owe her. We all owe Ben Solo, for without his interference, we would have lost more lives than just Private Mathenia getting Finn back.” 

Murmurs of agreement swept through the crowd at his words, and Leia nodded approvingly from the stage. A smirk crossed Solus’ face, but the rest of her was unreadable; Poe was always worried about her, as if she were one who would burn the Resistance down where they stood.

Jessika’s voice carried on beside him, saying, “Dameron's right. Without Xavier and Ben, we would have lost the raid on Crescent Base. We  _ all  _ would have been captured and killed, and the First Order would have risen out of our ashes. But we weren't killed, because of one medical professional's drive to get her boyfriend back, and said boyfriend realizing he was on the wrong side.” 

Before the Council could contain the spread of out of line comments, the rest of the crowd was shouting out different ways a buddy or themselves were saved. Solus took the podium, and raised her hand for silence. 

The High Councilman looked on in offense as Solus effectively shut him out, glaring at her as she spoke. “I caught the commander, sneaking out with Ben Solo in the middle of the night. Yes, this is treason, but I believe she was always planning on using Resistance resources to help her find him. By the Corellian hells, she was ready for him. I do not condone this treason, but I understand why.” Solus raised her chin, and the entirety of the crowd looked on. 

“Commander Christina Xavier, the kind codename given to a kindly doctor, is pregnant. It is Ben’s child, she is certain, and as am I. When she resigned from her post, it was shortly after discovering this; and I cannot blame her for wanting a father for her child. This is why, today, I am announcing that I am cutting ties with the Resistance and taking my Elite Squadrons over to the Gray Jedi, where they will be trained as Knights and will start rebuilding the Order under the Council and Luke Skywalker. Any Resistance troops, then, are allowed to come with and learn the ways of the Force, even if you are not sensitive. We are not your enemy any longer.” 

Dameron cheered first, followed by Jess and Finn and the rest of the small Resistance. 

After the meeting was effectively shut down by a butthurt Council, Leia found Poe drinking with Finn, the two off duty officers chatting in a larger group. It was a brief moment of happiness as Finn hung off his arm, Poe figured, and at some point, they had to return to the original programming.

“General on the floor!” 

All the officers sprung into attention, mild panic spreading amongst the ranks, and Leia waved them all to ease. “I'm not here on professional business,” she calmly said, and then looked to Finn and Poe. “Personal business, however, I am.” 

“General?” Poe asked, confused. Finn took Poe’s hand, gripping it tight. 

“I need you, Finn, and Rey to do a favor for me,” she smiled happily. “All of you, in fact. All of you need to go with Solus under the Gray Jedi. All of you. Bring your buddies, but get over there. It's safe there.”

The bar sat in silence for a moment, and then Finn spoke, dark eyes confused. “General, all due respect, but what the  _ fuck.” _

Leia laughed, but it was hollow. “It’s safe there. Please, just go. Talk to Luke if you're interested.”

She left the bar, and the bar patrons all filed out one by one to go find Luke Skywalker and tag along on the weirdest trip of their lives. 

A few days later, when everyone was safely hidden on the planet of Lothal in Solus’ farm, Poe was checking the holonet for information; what he found was not what he was looking for. Poe ran for Solus, Jessika and Finn following. The black-haired Jedi looked up from her paperwork, confused, and asked, “What is it, Dameron?” 

“The First Order,” he replied. “They got Leia.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look who isn't dead!!   
> Sorry for the short chapter. I've been having pretty problematic and spontaneous issues with my laptop. (Basically, it keeps crashing on me when I overload the drive with things. So, no music and writing anymore. :( )   
> I'm also working on a Sith!Obi-Wan story.... might post it, not entirely sure yet.   
> I estimate we are 3-5 chapters from the end, my dudes. So, until the next update!


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now I know,   
> That I can't make you stay  
> but where's your heart?   
> But where's your heart?   
> But where's your--
> 
> And I know,  
> There's nothing I can say  
> To change that part  
> To change that part  
> To change--"

_ You woke up next to Ben  _ on the  _ Falcon, _ the man already awake and lovingly rubbing your belly. It was definitely odd, and you weren’t looking forward to the labor and hormonal changes, but you would do it. Hells, you tore the galaxy and  _ yourself _ apart, all for him.

“What are you  _ doing, _ silly,” you giggled, and he smiled up at you, pressing kisses into the column of your neck before returning to rubbing your belly under your shirt.

“Getting to know our child,” he smiled, nuzzling his head into your shoulders. You only smiled, letting the silence take over. You briefly wondered if this was how Leia and Han were, before Ben, before any of their problems caught up with them. Pain filled you, but then it passed. Han would be proud.

“I changed the hyperspace coordinates,” Ben said, his voice hoarse. “There’s a place we can go. It’s an old beach house; my family used to vacation there, before they sent me to Luke.” 

“Are you sure you can handle that?” you asked him, and he smiled up at you, pushing himself up onto his elbows. 

“I’m more sure of it than I ever have been,” he smiled, his free hand gripping yours. “You and I will raise our child there. Maybe more, if you want them,” he winked, and you laughed. 

“Okay, you goof,” you smiled, and he proceeded to press kisses all over your belly, finally letting you up when you called uncle. In the kitchen, there was some actual food, probably left there from Luke and Rey; you found yourself digging in a cupboard, and in a drawer you were sure you’d been in before, you found an all-too-familiar lightsaber. Dylan licked your feet, and Pickles meowed happily at your return, and you put food down for the both of them before pulling out the lightsaber. 

You pulled it out, feeling the generations of history tied to it; the good, the bad, the ugly, all in one tense aura of contentment. Beside it was a note, in Rey’s blockish, almost preschool handwriting. You admired her for writing it out herself. 

_ Ben, my dear cousin:  _

_ I’ve had some time to think about our battle on Starkiller. I’ve had time to digest the fact that you are, in fact, my cousin, and Luke is my father. Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber chose me over you at the time, but now I feel it calls to you.  _

_ Rewrite the dark history attached to it. Now that you know the truth of Anakin, who he is, and where he is from, you can truly finish what our grandfather started.  _

_ Bring balance to yourself, and the rest will fall into place.  _

_ \-- Rey Solus.  _

“Ben,” you called, and the man sauntered into the room, sweatpants low on his hips. 

“Yes?” 

You handed the lightsaber and the note to him, his hands shaking as he reached for them. He sunk into a chair, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he held the lightsaber in his hands. 

His pain and relief slammed into you at the same time it did him, knocking the wind from you as images of the battle that felt so long ago flooded your mind. 

“Ben,” you called to him. He didn’t respond, and you walked over to him, shaking him by the shoulders. “Ben!” you hissed, and he looked at you, fear and guilt in his eyes. 

“I almost killed her,” he murmured. “Why is she being nice to me?” 

“Well, you gave me seven stitches the first time I met you, so,” you teased, and he laughed, kissing you gently. Silence filled the room as he held you, Pickles purring up against your legs and Dylan sitting patiently for his hug. 

_ My family, _ you thought, and you couldn’t be happier at the thought. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured into your neck. 

“But you have me, so deal with it,” you giggled, and the beeps of the hyperspace drive announced your arrival. “Best go take care of that.” You gently pushed yourself away from him, and he nodded, grinning. 

“Naturally,” he winked, and ran to the cockpit, settling the two of you on stable ground. 

You descended the loading ramp, Ben in hand, and you stared out over the grassy hills, a cliff leading to a beautifully gray ocean directly in front of you. Behind you was an old house, weathered from the elements, but sturdy and strong. Kneeling, you stuck your hand in the ground; behind the house, you figured, you would be able to grow food. Fish and seafood could come from the water beyond you, and for once, you felt truly safe.

“It's beautiful, Ben,” you murmured, and he smiled, pulling you close. 

“I thought you would like it,” he smiled. “It's not a lab, it's not high-tech, but somehow, this reminded me of you. And I want to live somewhere that reminds me of the woman I love more than anything in the whole world, the mother of my child, my savior, and,” Ben continued, pulling something from his pocket and dropping to a knee, “my wife, if you'll allow it.” 

A stunned silence came over you, and you struggled to find words. The ring was burnished durasteel, carefully crafted by Ben himself, and when panic set in his eyes, you furiously nodded your head yes, tears flowing down your face like a dam had just broken. 

He cheered his happiness, leaping up after slipping the ring on your finger and twirling you around, kissing you more passionately than he had in years. 

You smiled up at him when he put you down, wiping away a tear. “Come on,” he said, dragging you around the back of the house towards a speeder. “I want you to meet the town.” 

“Town?” You asked, shocked. 

“Yes, silly, the town,” Ben laughed, picking you up and putting you on the speeder before hopping on in front of you. 

You flew down the prairies of the countryside, watching as the sky turned colors with the returning sun through the heavy clouds, warmth blossoming through the dreary day. Ben tensed as you approached the town, the strangers staring at the two of you as you disembarked. The houses were little more than worn shacks, and the stores much the same; the people dressed in simple, homespun garb, but none of them seemed to mind. A small circle of people gathered around the two of you, and you clung to Ben for reassurance. 

“Who are you, strangers?” one woman said, and Ben smiled, his eyes kind. 

“You know me, Cynthia,” Ben murmured, and when no recognition came to her face, he continued, “It’s me. Ben.” 

Shock registered across her plain features and the town that was around cheered, promptly pushing you away from him as they all surrounded him in a happy family. Panic swelled in you, but you suppressed it, painfully smiling at the swarm. 

“But wait,” a girl murmured, walking up to you. “Who are you?” 

You smiled down at her, and knelt to her height, her hands in yours. “Well,” you smiled, “I’m Ben’s fiancee.” 

A man not much older than Ben whistled lowly, saying, “Nice catch, that ass is something worth falling for.” 

“What?” You and Ben growled at the same time, and you caught Ben’s hand before he called on the Force to punish the man. “No, no, love. Let me,” you smiled, patting his hand, and then closed your fist and punched the man in the face. 

He recoiled, shaking his stunned mind out of the confusion that followed. He collapsed into the mud, looking up at you in shock. The town was silent, and you smirked. “Not bad for a piece of ass, huh?” Cynthia was the first to start clapping, her brown eyes stunned and impressed, the rest of the town soon to follow. 

Later, you were in a bar with some of the other women after being dragged there, Ben at your side and simply smiling at you with each word you spoke. A gin cocktail was in your hand, but you weren’t drinking it, though you disctintly remembered telling them you didn’t drink. 

“So how did you and Ben meet?” one of the older women asked. 

You looked to Ben, who simply said, “Don’t look at me, she asked  _ you. _ ” The trustful look in his eyes told you that it was  _ your _ story to tell, and his reputation in the town was in your hands. 

“We were working on Starkiller Base as independent contractors,” you began. “I was in the medical field, researching the relation to in-battle concussions with Stormtroopers and their fall to dementia. It was actually quite interesting,” you continued, your face lighting up. “Ben was there for military-political relations. We actually met because my escort failed to inform me that when sparks were flying, to avoid them at all costs, because high-intenstity training was taking place. I went in, got hit, and Ben basically gave me seven stitches. He’s since made up for it, though, significantly. He’s not forgiven, but he is pardoned.” 

“ _ Seven? _ That’s a lot of stitches,” a brunette sighed. 

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Ben muttered in protest. 

“If it was, I wouldn’t be marrying you, silly,” you laughed, offering him your drink. 

“So have you met Han? And Leia?” one of the other girls asked. 

You flinched, looking away as memories of the destruction of Starkiller Base bled into your mind. “I never met Han,” you murmured, “but I’ve met Leia, and Luke, and Rey and Minerva.” 

As if one of the girls had their minds read, Ben bluntly, but painfully, said, “My father is dead. He died in the destruction of Starkiller.” 

“He was trying to save us,” you murmured in confirmation, and you reached up to wipe a tear from your cheek. “Kylo Ren killed him.” 

“What happened to Kylo Ren anyway?” A little girl asked. “Last we heard, he was in custody of the New Republic.” 

You looked to Ben, a smile on your face.  _ They didn’t know.  _ Ben could say anything and they would believe it. 

“I killed him,” Ben muttered. “He threatened me. He threatened my family, my fiancee, my child. I couldn’t let him do that. So I killed him,” he muttered. “Kylo Ren is dead, and I buried him.” 

You noticed his confidence, and the relief that washed over him. It was over. 

Kylo Ren was dead and the galaxy was saved. 

For once, you thought everything was going to be okay.

 

A few weeks later, you and Ben were cleaning up the house a bit when three figures in black came to you, brandishing the Elite symbol on their chests. 

“We do not come for your lover, Commander,” the girl with gold eyes announced. She stood in the middle, her two companions on either side. “We come bearing news.” 

The tallest figure, a frame you recognized, stepped forward, pulling his hood down. Samson stood there, sadness in his eyes, and you ran to him, barely noticing in your elation. 

He caught you around the waist, hugging you to his chest before grasping your hand, looking down at the ring before looking up at Ben, who leaned against the pillar drying off his hands. “I do not disagree, Jedikiller, but I fear my news is far more grave than this happy time calls for.” 

“Samson?” You asked quietly, looking at him with a confused stare. Dylan yipped happily at the familiar man, but did not leave Ben's side. “Where’s Solus?” you asked, expecting to have seen her there. 

“The General has been captured by Supreme Leader Snoke. The Elite and the Gray Jedi are requesting your help,” Samson announced. “We're going to get Leia back.... Solus left a few weeks ago, shortly after we found out, and no communication has been able to get through. She’s presumed dead, but we won’t know until we get there.” 

You felt uncontrollable anger surge from Ben, the man roaring with rage. Inside, your heart shattered, fearing for Solus more than you ever had before.  “You lie,” he snarled, “you lie! You come to _my house_ , tell _my fiancée_ that _my_ _mother_ has been captured, and for what? To endanger my child? _Endanger me?”_

You caught him at the chest, your sad eyes stopping his rage any further. “Ben, please.”He took a breath and centered himself, muttered an apology, and did not speak further. “So, if Snoke  _ does  _ have Leia, what chance do you think we stand without Solus?” 

“I have no idea. You know me, Doctor; I will not put your child in harm’s way. But you, Ben Solo,” Samson said, turning back to the former Dark Jedi, “you have a redemption arc to fulfill. You want to prove to the galaxy that you’re not Kylo Ren? This is your chance.” 

“He’ll kill me if I go,” he muttered. 

“What, is the  _ Jedikiller _ scared?” The golden eyed girl taunted. 

You immediately made a note that you didn’t like her. 

“Hush, Heralynn,” Samson snarled, but Ben waved him off. 

“Yes. Yes I am,  _ Heralynn,  _ because I finally found something worth living for,” he snarled at her, am arm snaking around your back and pulling you into him. 

“I think you should go,” you murmured to him.

“What?” He quietly asked you. “What if I don't come back?” 

You smiled up at him wearily, and then said, “I have done my duty to this galaxy. Now it's time for you to do yours.”

He only nodded, letting Samson lead him down the path towards their ship. He left you the  _ Falcon, _ and you shouted, “I love you, Ben!” after him. 

He shouted a reply back, but you couldn't hear it properly. If you didn't know any better, it sounded like he said “I know.” 

\----------------

_ “Leia Organa, how nice to finally _ have met you,” the figure shrouded in mist crowed. 

Leia shook her head, grayed hair falling out of her meticulous braid. Dried blood caked her face, and her head throbbed in pain. She was on her knees, hands tied behind her back.  _ This is definitely not good, _ she thought to herself, carefully constructing walls around her mind. 

Armitage Hux stood in the corner, smirking and taking a drag off a cigarette. He was rough-looking, with his undercut long and overgrown and his chin a scruffy beard. “Welcome back,  _ General, _ ” he smiled, though she didn’t really find it to be that friendly.

Before she could articulate a proper, sarcastic reply, the figure in the mist stepped forward, finding it to be someone she wasn’t familiar with. 

“I am Supreme Leader Snoke,” he smirked, extending his arms out like a welcoming host, “and  _ this  _ is my Citadel.” She looked around, pretending to admire the dark and damp walls of the run-down castle. Torn tapestries hung on the dark walls, telling a tale of a stronger empire. Ghosts spoke words of hate and malice, and it didn’t take her long to figure out she was in an old Sith temple. She felt another presence there, more than the girl in the background or Hux. Someone she  _ knew _ was here; the signiture, though, was too muddled for her to trace it. “What say you, Organa?” Snoke asked, and Leia turned her eyes back to him. 

She paused, choosing her words carefully. “Aren’t you a little  _ short  _ for an evil overlord? The last one was over seven feet tall,” she poked, and she swore she heard Anakin groaning in the background. 

The ghostly man dropped his arms and his facade, squatting down in front of her. “Aren’t you a little rebel,” he growled, gripping her chin in his hand. 

She smirked, spitting in his face. “I destroyed the Galactic Empire. I will destroy you just the same,” Leia taunted, Snoke roaring back in anger as he wiped the spit from his face. 

“Get her out of here,” Snoke snarled at Hux, who wandered over to her and hoisted her up, the woman’s knees cracking in protest. 

“If you’re trying to get Ben here,” Leia snapped, “it’s not going to work!” 

“ _ Ben Solo is dead! _ ” Snoke howled at her, his face inches from hers and fuming. “In him lives Kylo Ren, just like in Minerva Solus lives the most loyal apprentice I ever had.” 

Leia smirked up at him, the ghost of a smile on her face. “He who will not accept change will fall,” she growled, and Hux dragged her away, Snoke fuming in the silence that followed. 

He refused to let this  _ girl _ get under his skin. He had spent a very, very long time planning this, and--

_ You. _

You happened. 

A wicked smile cut across his face, and he crooned, “Oh,  _ Doctor, _ I do believe it’s time for a visit. Heralynn, come here.” 

The girl stepped out of the shadows, her eyes as gold as the Sith of old, a wicked smile on her face. “What is thy bidding, my master?” 

Snoke smirked, saying, “Find and bring me Minerva Solus.” 

She smirked and snapped her gum, slipping into the shadows. A few minutes later, chains could be heard, and Solus was deposited in front of him. She was tired, it seemed; bags under her eyes told him everything, despite the cuts and bruises that littered her body. Once again, Snoke smiled, she would be  _ beautiful. _

“My dear apprentice,” he smiled at her, kneeling down. “How desolate you've become.” 

“I'm not your apprentice,” Solus snarled up at him, but it wasn't as strong as her normal defiance. It was as if.... As if she had been broken. Almost. 

Internally, Snoke was impressed. Heralynn was the descendant of a strong Sith, known only as Starkiller, created by Darth Vader himself. She was well-trained, that was for certain,  _ especially _ when it came to her....  _ Persuasion  _ tactics. Externally, though, he only sighed down at Minerva, gripping her by the chin and forcing her to look at him with her sad violet eyes. “Remember, my apprentice. Remember what I made you. What happened when you gave into me?” 

“I was strong,” she answered automatically, as if it was the conditioned response. 

“What are you now, then?” 

It took a moment for Solus to reply. “I am....  _ weak,”  _ she breathed out, and the man smiled at her. 

“Good. You've made progress. Your friends should be arriving shortly; we'll see how you react.” He stood and walked away, cloak billowing in the wake like a ribbon of blood in darkened water.

Solus watched him leave, the storm inside her too strong to ignore. Heralynn smirked down at her, as if she were any  _ better _ than her, and she immediately determined that when Solus was free of these chains, she would be the first one to die. 

She was taken back to her cell, the Force-binding chains removed, and left to meditate. Solus felt the chill overtaking her once more, and as she sat and meditated, she thought of you, of how much she  _ cared  _ for you. 

_ You can still save her, _ the Force crooned in her ear,  _ all you have to do is give in. _

Minerva Solus struggled internally, her barriers breaking down, crumbling from the top down. Wisps of black smoke entered her mind, coaxing fear, hate,  _ love _ out of her.  _ No,  _ she told herself,  _ I am a Jedi! A Jedi!! _

She shivered. When had it become this cold? Her breath came out in clouds in front of her and she screwed her eyes shut, fighting with all her will. 

Her will, though, had often betrayed her mind. There were times when her heart wanted something greater than herself, greater than anyone could ever hope for. Standing against Ben had been one thing, all those years ago; she was made to  _ protect, _ to  _ serve, _ not to be a general or commander. She was meant to  _ be _ controlled, not  _ to _ control. 

_ No, no, no, that’s not true,  _ she argued with herself, barely allowing anything else in her mind other than her extreme panic and fear. 

_ Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering, and suffering leads to the Dark Side. _

Oh, how she knew that all too well. She and the Dark had been close friends, its frozen, hellish chill once a part of her soul, of her body and her life. But she left that _girl_ behind. She had been _saved._ _Rey_ had saved her. Tendrils of the blackness leaked through her mental barriers, and she gasped for air. It was _suffocating._

_ There is no emotion, there is peace, _ she argued with herself.  _ I can do this, I can do this. _

_ Peace is a lie, _ the ghosts in her ear whispered back.  _ There is only passion. _

_ There is no ignorance, there is knowledge, _ she shot back, anger flaring in her. How  _ dare _ they challenge  _ her, _ Minerva Solus, the strongest Jedi since Anakin Skywalker! 

_ Through passion, you gained your power, _ voices countered.  _ You have your knowledge, use it! _

She didn't fight it,  _ couldn’t _ fight it, allowing her hate and fear to manifest itself in her biggest demons. Finally, she opened herself fully to the Force, blackness swallowing her whole faster than she could even begin to comprehend. 

_ There is no passion! _ She howled into the black storm surrounding her.  _ There is only serenity! _

_ Through your power, you gained your strengths, Minerva Solus, _ the spirits crooned back, coaxing her to believe it, to just  _ say it. _

_ There is no chaos! No evil! No pain!  _ She screamed into the darkness, and it  _ laughed _ at her. _ There is only harmony! _

_ Through your power, you gained your victories, Minerva,  _ it hummed, and flashes of what she had done, the  _ people _ she killed, the  _ sick _ enjoyment she got out of it rushing back to her in blacks and reds and whites.  _ If you do not comply, Minerva, we will kill you. _

_ There is no death, _ she whispered,  _ there is only the Force. _

_ Through the Force, your chains are broken.... _ The voices whispered, some laughing maniacally, sensing their impending victory. She sobbed, tears rolling down her face. The voices of Siths gone, their spirits, finally broke her, rushing in and through her, hunting down every last trace of the pure whiteness left in her and  _ destroying _ it, burning her into ashes inside and out. 

If she screamed, she didn't hear it. 

When it was finally over, she sat up, cradling her burning eyes in her hands. The scars on her back throbbed, hot to the touch. Memories of Ben, of the Jedi Temple, of Snoke when she was a child, his  _ toy, _ his weapon, stronger than humanly possible, barely human. 

She determined that after she killed Heralynn, she would make Snoke suffer for everything he ever did to her, and to Ben, and to you and the entire galaxy. 

But the Jedi inside her screamed,  _ If you’ll do that, where will you end? _ before it was promptly squashed, trampled by the blackness of her old home. 

When she opened her eyes and looked in the mirror, they were as gold as a Sith's. 

_ “The Force shall set me free,” _ she and the thousands of other voices whispered in unison, and Minerva Solus had never felt so  _ alive.  _

She sat still for a moment, gathering herself, before she stood, reaching out with the Force to find her sabers. They were with Heralynn, the reply came, and they were not happy.

With a wave of her hand the cell doors slid open, iron grating on iron, and she followed the whispers to Heralynn, who was in a corner, reading a paper. She looked up, her gold eyes narrowed, but before she could shout out in warning, Solus’ mind was on hers, effectively rummaging through her memories and her past, finding every little detail about her, and cutting off her connection to the Force. 

“Where. Are. My.  _ Sabers. _ ” Solus hissed out, and Heralynn hissed at her. 

“Over my dead body,” she choked out beyond the iron grip that held her against the wall, and in a fury, Solus pushed and pushed until the girl’s neck popped, her mind going still and her body limp.  _ Disgusting, _ Solus snarled at her, and then called out for her sabers. 

They flew into her hands, blazing lines of gray beside her furious body, Solus smiling at the familiarity of them. Looking down with angered disgust at Heralynn, glassy gold eyes staring up at Solus, she turned on her heel and strode into the main hall, Snoke halting in his pacing with his back to Solus. 

“Interesting,” he smiled. “Very interesting. 

The sounds of footsteps behind her drew her attention, but she didn’t bother looking to see who it was. “ _ Solus! _ ” Ben shouted at her, followed by her friends and other Elite members.

“You will  _ pay, _ ” Solus snarled. “For hurting me, for hurting my family, and for hurting my friends. You will pay.” 

“Personally, Solus, don’t you think that your friends would never bother with you again?” Snoke turned to face her. “Look at you, Minerva. Feel how the Force churns about you. I’m sure your friends feel it too, young one.” He looked over her shoulder at the gathering forces of lightsabers behind her, blues and purples and golds amongst many others littering the dark room. “What do you think, Kylo Ren? What do you see?” 

“Leave her alone, Snoke,” Ben snarled back. “Kylo Ren is dead. I am no longer your  _ slave. _ ” 

“Ah,” Snoke smiled, the look of a fox upon him. “That is not what I asked you. But very well, I will tell you.” He snarled, thrusting out with the Force and grabbing Solus around her throat, turning her to face her friends as her anger flared. “We have a Sith! A freshly born Sith, no less,” he finally snarled, throwing her on the floor in front of Ben. 

She stared at the floor in fury, her hands closing around her sabers as Ben knelt to look at her. She felt her sister’s disappointment, Luke’s shock, and the betrayed feel amongst her soldiers. “Fine,” she muttered, ripping herself away from Ben’s gaze. “Turn my friends against me. Make them hate me. But I promise you,  _ Darth Sidious, _ that you will finally die.” 

With a furious scream, she ran towards Snoke, her sabers clashing with his in a flurry of sparks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened.   
> Woo, the end is finally here!!!!! About time!!!!   
> Sadly, there are only two chapters left after this one. Chapter Eighteen will be the end of the plotline as we know it, and there will be an epilogue, summing up what happened to characters who survive the Battle of the Citadel and side characters like Liberty who were only around for a few chapters before vanishing.   
> Just.... holy shit guys. This has been a ride. I want to thank all of you who stuck around this long, and those of you who just started reading, and those of you who will find this fic further down the road (cringe) and follow it. I've learned a lot over my time writing the non-canonical sequel to Starkiller Science, written by my best friend Aisling over at aisling_in_outer_space, and I hope you did too.   
> Until next time, my lovely readers.   
> { song : famous last words // mcr }


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nowhere to run,  
> Nowhere to hide tonight   
> We're chasing sundown  
> The darker the night, the stronger the light is...."

_ Ben Solo no longer understood the  _ ways of the Force. 

In front of him, his cousin clashed with his former master, and the surviving members of the Knights of Ren bled out of the shadows, stalking towards the group of about ten with blazing red weapons. Ben didn’t even remember the majority of them skilled enough to have a weapon like a lightsaber. 

Behind him, Rey ignited her golden sabers, and Ben followed suit, his grandfather’s blue saber igniting as the forms came so easily to him. He waited, watching, deciding who he was going to go after first, trying to start the mind game that came with battling Force users. He tossed the idea aside, though; he trained them too well. They knew better than to fall for that. 

Then they were upon them. 

With a cry, he launched forward, allowing the blocks and parries to get blurred together, blocking red blades and saving the others. He didn’t strike anyone down; he just fought his way to Solus, but was tossed away by the Supreme Leader upon detection. 

He skidded into a pillar, got back up, and rejoined the fight. 

Fighting alongside Britain was beautifully lethal. The younger twin’s skills had grown since they last fought, his focus unbreakable and his determination resolute. Upon spotting him, the former Knight flashed him a wicked smile, only to dance away from a dark figure with a red blade, parrying and striking down. Ben, too, was swept up into a fight, back-to-back with Samson, the big, burly, dark-skinned man flashing Ben a familiar smirk as they teamed up, forcing a Knight back until they were forced to split up to deal with incoming forces. 

He didn’t know what had become of him, so lost in the situation, until he and one of his closest Knights were circling, unmasked for the first time in combat, identified as Ronan. His dual-edged sabers made small circles, as did Ben’s, chests heaving and sweat mingling with blood. 

“Ronan, don’t do this,” Ben argued. “You’re better than Snoke. You’re better than all of this.” 

The Mandalorian only howled a battle cry, followed by “ _ TRAITOR!!”  _ before rushing in with a sharp jab.

_ Well, that answers that,  _ Ben mused, blocking the strike and spinning with the hope of catching him at the legs. Ronan had since danced away, and they went back to circling, the man’s dual saber kept tightly across his back. 

Ben launched forward with a downward cut, the first edge of the other’s saber catching it in a sharp spin, forcing Ben to dance away until he could come back in again, neither landing a blow on the other. 

That is, until Ben realized he had one thing Ronan didn’t: the Force. 

Ben reached out, the former Knight charging with an idea of what was to happen next, only to find that when he got there, his lightsaber was off, and Ben’s was deep in his stomach, the blue blade releasing the stench of cauterized and burnt flesh. 

“Thank you,” the former Knight smiled, blood on his teeth, and fell to the ground when Ben disengaged his blade. He knelt and closed his eyes, muttering something about his soul that Ben’d said many times when a Knight fell, only to have a startled cry pull him back into the battle. 

“ _ NO! _ ” Solus screamed, throwing Snoke aside as she dove for her sister. The man skidded on his side, but popped right back up, like an annoying weed. 

Rey was unconscious in the middle of the battle, her enemy standing triumphantly over her, about to bring the final strike, when a familiar green saber met the black of the Knight’s clothing, tossing him to the side as Luke dove back into battle, and Solus ran to Rey’s side, the girl crying. 

“No, no, no,” Solus sobbed, holding Rey’s head in her hands. 

Snoke only chuckled, red saber in hand as he stalked towards her. “Pitiful, Minerva. You fell once from your graces because of that girl, and it’ll never happen again.” 

He raised his saber to bring down a strike a blow, but as it came down, a blue blade was there, matched with a furious brown gaze. “ _ Not my family, _ ” he hissed, and Snoke only smirked. 

“How  _ predictable, _ ” he growled, and then Ben launched himself into a frenzied attack against Snoke. 

Every block, every strike was matched by the master. Ben expected nothing less, but he still tried. Every form he knew, he had to try. The problem was, he realized,  _ Snoke was his teacher. _ He knew every form, how Ben fought, how he thought, all of it. 

Snoke got one hit in, a punch to his nose, and it sent Ben staggering backwards, falling to his knees to keep from passing out. “You say Kylo Ren is dead, boy,” Snoke snarled, red eyes boring holes in Ben’s. “But you fight just like him, think like him, and behave like him!” 

Snoke circled the tip of his saber whilst Ben recovered, the man thinking on his knees. His hands closed around Anakin’s saber, saying, “You know what? You’re right.” His memories came back to him, of his time with Luke, in saber training against Solus, against all the others. They taught him everything he needed to know, not Snoke. Time seemed to slow as he rose to his feet, ignoring the screams and grunts behind him, and cleared his mind. Opening himself to the Force made him vulnerable, but it was what he needed to do. He felt his grandfather with him, and his namesake, and all the Jedi past that dared to stand up for him. He was more than his past. 

Snoke smirked, and the two were launched into a series of intense strikes, the confident smirk on Snoke’s face replaced by a focused snarl. 

All the while, Ben waited. He waited for the slip-up he knew would come, and as Solus jumped into battle beside him, it was coming. He saw it before Solus did, but the Sith girl dove out of his way, causing the miscalculation of Snoke that turned to be his undoing. 

He ducked under the long red arc, sweeping the monster and catching his saber, both of them crossed at Snoke’s neck. Ben felt the Force hold its breath, as if it had been here before, as if  _ he _ had been there before. He was one with the Force, with his past, with his future, and every other Force user that found their way to the afterlife. He was vulnerable, but he was strong, confident, and unbroken. 

“Kylo, surely we can reason--” 

“My name isn’t Kylo,” Ben snarled, though his voice was even, indifferent, and he pulled the blades apart. 

The decapitated head of the monster who had ruled him and his friends fell to the ground before his body did. Ben’s internal turmoil immediately ceased, his face and body relaxing as the storm just.... Stopped. It allowed Ben to turn and look at the damage caused by this mission. All the Knights were dead, and few of the Elite still stood; Samson was in the background, tending to a wounded Jake, his brother unconscious across his legs. Rey and Solus stood together, hugging, and sobbing; he couldn’t understand why, until he looked at their feet. 

Luke Skywalker was dead. 

“No,” Ben gasped, falling to his knees and pulling his former master’s head into his lap. He pushed bloodied strands of gray hair away from his uncle’s face, the man already graying in pallor. Save for the sobs of the wounded, the room fell silent once again, the horrors of the past dead and gone, part of history like the dust on the shelves. “No, no, no!” 

His grief fell silent afterwards, his pain and sorrow frozen in his body as tears fell. All the things he wanted to say fell unsaid, but he had a feeling that Luke wouldn't have heard it anyway. 

“Samson,” Solus finally called. “Go find Leia.” 

“No need,” a weary voice said, and everyone looked up, seeing a tired and dirty Leia standing in one of the arches of the temple, her face streaked with dust and her hair loose from her braid. “I figured my way out.” Leia walked over to her brother and knelt, across from her son, and wiped away a tear, muttering a prayer above his body before standing again. “Gather the dead, get them back to base. Ben,” she smiled, smiling at her son, “go home.” 

“But--” 

“Ben. Go. Home. You have a family,” she smiled. 

He stood, looking down at his small mother, defiance rising in him. Leia smiled to herself; she saw the fight in his eyes, the fire burning so bright, and she  _ knew _ it was her son. It was a fight she so often was told she had. “So do you!” he cried out, and Leia only smiled up at her son as she articulated a response. 

As they were arguing, the surviving Elite and Jedi loaded the dead bodies into the drop vehicle, Leia boarding shortly after the injured did, leaving him, Samson, Rey, and Solus, with Britain at the controls.

He looked at his family, all filthy and bloody. Rey’s eyes were clear but pained, blood dripping down her arms and body from various cuts, but she was relatively unharmed. Solus’ new gold eyes were tormented and conflicted, though her body showed more exhaustion than she did. She looked malnourished, as if she had been held captive for weeks -- which she had. Samson’s eyes didn't leave Jake, sitting unconscious on the ship, but he looked relatively unharmed as well. 

“You best get out of here,” Ben finally smiled. “You have a Republic to fix.” 

Leia was about to reply when six TIE fighters flew overhead, sending everyone scattering. “Go! Get out of here!” Ben shouted at Leia, igniting his sabers and deflecting a bolt into oblivion. 

“No! Not without you!” She snarled, and Samson, with a pained cry, ran up the dock and dragged the general with him, the ship eventually taking off through heavy fire. Ben covered it for the longest he could, redirecting blaster bolts to avoid the Republic shuttle. 

“What are we going to do?” Rey shouted over the noise. 

“Deflect the bolts into the ships the best you can,” Ben grunted, aiming for a TIE that flew overhead, but missed. His blue saber spun at his side and he dodged three more, fuming at the TIEs. 

“That sounds like a terrible plan,” Rey snarled at him, rolling to avoid being blasted to bits. 

“You got any better ideas?” Solus shouted at her, and Rey sighed, deflecting a bolt directly into the engine of a TIE. It crashed into one of the higher towers of the Citadel, raining debris down upon them.

Rey, Solus, and Ben fled into the shadow of the Citadel, taking down the remaining fighters whilst dodging falling stone and ships. 

A part of Ben still missed the war. He missed fighting, the focus it required, the physical skill it required; but on the other hand, he loved you know than he loved fighting. He loved his family, the one he was having with you, and he wanted the peace more than he wanted the war. 

It made his determination to live all that much stronger. 

When only one TIE still flew, they were tired, sore, and their reflexes were slower. A stray bolt got past them, crashing into the Citadel. The entire thing shook down to its very core, dodging large chunks of stone before it fell. 

Ben was able to dive out of the way, but Rey and Solus were lost under the rubble, their connection to the Force cut. With each one of them it felt like a part of himself was missing, gone, destroyed. Tears slid down his dirty face as the dust settled and silence fell, the Gray Jedi coughing and spluttering as a familiar redhead strode out of the dust. 

“Hux,” Ben groaned, igniting his saber. 

“Ren,” Hux snarled back, igniting his. 

Ben shoved back the shock he had at seeing Hux with a saber. He may have been more of a diplomat, but he was  _ always _ exceptionally good at fighting. In fact, Ben had often wondered if Snoke knew of his Force sensitivity, which was clearly proven by the blazing red blade at his side. He really shouldn't have been surprised. 

“I won’t take this personally, Armitage. Orders are orders,” Ben said, spinning his saber beside him. 

“ _ I will _ ,” Hux snarled, charging him. 

It was over as quickly as it started. Hux’s skills didn’t even come close to Ben’s, not with a lightsaber, and Ben knew that. So did Hux, really, and yet here he was, dying at the hand of someone he almost considered an ally. 

Hux groped at Ben’s torn and bloodied shirt, gasping for air, but Ben tossed him aside, leaving him to die in the dust of the otherwise uninhabited planet.

A croaking laugh came from the redhead, saying, “ _ Coward, _ ” as he left the scene, and Ben paused, the grip on his lightsaber tight, the blue blade humming in the silence. 

“No, Hux. If I were a coward, I would have ran like before. That's who I was,” he replied, dark hair soaked with blood and sweat. 

“Then who are you now?” 

Ben tried to ignore him, to ignore the question thrown at him like a dagger, but it was lodged in his back, the pain immeasurable and unforgettable. It was a pain of betrayal, of loss, of memories from a time before you, before Talia. He wanted to scream out,  _ You were almost my brother, Armitage. Instead we were lovers, and I loved you all the same.  _

But he didn't.

There were a lot of things that Ben should have done but didn't. He should have ignored Snoke when he first showed up. He should have listened to Luke and trusted Solus, should have gone home with his father, should have-- 

_ Should've, could’ve, would’ve,  _ he snarled at himself. He knew better. 

And right now, he knew he should just keep walking, to not reply, to just leave this place and  _ go home. _

But he didn't. Instead, Ben turned on his heel and stood over Hux, kneeling to stare at the face of someone he almost called friend but had called lover, had killed for, had stared into the eyes of in the midst of the most intimate of actions, and he only laughed. “You know, Hux,” Ben smiled, “that's a good question.” 

He stood up and walked away, letting the general of a fallen empire die in shallow pain, the stench of blood and burnt flesh strong in the still-settling dust. 

Maybe this time, this was a should’ve that was smart to ignore. 

He searched for the ship he’d come in, doing one last scan with the Force to see if Solus and Rey were really alive, and the readings came back empty. With a sunken heart and destroyed spirits, he boarded the ship alone, and took off, making one comm before he went into hyperspace. 

“This is Benjamin Organa-Solo. Armitage Hux, Supreme Leader Snoke, and the Solus sisters are dead, unretrievable. Scans through the Force came up negative. Take care of my mother, guys. I’m going home. Solo, out.” He terminated the comm, set the hyperspace coordinates, and sat back, watching as the stars blurred to streaks of white and blue, thinking of you and your child. 

He took a deep breath, searching for a change of clothes and a 'fresher, showering the blood and dust off of himself. The water ran red, and he feared most of it was his. 

Once he shut off the water, he found that the silence was deafening, and the ringing in his ears was just annoying. If anything, he could most likely banish it away with the Force. If not, well, whatever. 

Ben was pleased to find he was relatively unharmed, mostly bruises and cuts from falling debris and blocking hand to hand combat with some of the Knights. They would all heal with little effort, and would leave little scarring. 

He pulled the soft cotton clothes over his head before turning to stare at himself in the mirror, his tired, dark eyes asking one question:  _ who am I? _

He shook off the question. It didn't matter anymore. His name was Ben Solo. You were his fiancee. And he was going to be a father.

He settled back into the pilot's seat, a ghost materializing in the copilot’s. He turned to look at it, seeing the face of Anakin Skywalker staring back at him. He was in his Jedi garb, and he was far less torn apart than the last time he saw him in the deserts of Tattooine. He had almost forgotten about those weeks, haunted by the ghosts of his past and of his family. They seemed so long ago, only a dream of nightmares he lived. 

_ You have made me proud today, Ben,  _ he smiled, and he felt a ghost of a touch on his cheek.  _ I'm sorry I wasn't who you needed me to be when I was alive.  _

“I thought you were,” Ben replied, looking at him sadly. “You were a legend, the man who brought the entire galaxy under one banner. I didn't really understand what it meant, though....” A thought crossed Ben’s mind, and he figured he'd ask. “What ever happened to Ahsoka?” 

_ Snips? _ Anakin made a face, and Ben laughed, trying to keep it quiet.  _ I'm not really sure,  _ he finally said.  _ I feel she lived the last time I fought her, and she isn't with the Force. Maybe you should seek her out. She is very knowledgeable about the Force; she spent many years outside of the Jedi Order studying it and experimenting with it. She may not have been a Jedi by title, but she was definitely a Jedi by choice.  _ Anakin paused, sighing.  _ I never got the chance to tell her how proud I was of her. I was too caught up in killing my past, in dedicating myself fully to being Vader, that I never really stopped trying to find her. _

Ben paused, thinking about it. “Maybe. I wonder how my fiancée would like her,” he murmured. “Besides, it's a good thing you didn't. Mom told me stories about her when I was young, about how she would play with me while Mom was in meetings or taking on the Empire or something.... Supposedly, anyways.” 

Anakin groaned.  _ Trust me, they would get along just fine. I'm glad I don't have to be around for that shitfest. All they would do is trash me. You have no idea the stories that Togruta has.  _ Ben laughed, the conversation easy, kind, relaxing. Anakin smiled, saying,  _ Someone’s here to see you, _ and Luke appeared next to him, father and son together after all this time. 

“Look at the two of you,  _ not _ trying to kill each other,” Ben winked, and Anakin laughed, but Luke looked like he  _ really  _ wanted to slap some sense into him. 

_ Ben.... _ Luke paused, looking away.  _ Father, can you leave us?  _

_ Certainly.  _ Anakin stood, nodding his goodbye.  _ Call me if you need me. I've got nothing better to do now.  _ He vanished from sight, his presence leaving the area like a dry breeze. 

Luke assumed his father’s position, facing the man.  _ I spent a long time thinking about what you did. I meditated. I searched for answers. Minerva was far more direct than I was; she went charging straight into battle, and I ran, looking for the old Jedi Temple.  _ Luke paused, stroking his beard.  _ I think I want you to know that I forgive you. It wasn't just you, it was me and everyone else. We didn't give you the help you needed. But I'm glad you found your way, Ben.  _

Ben smiled at him, wiping away a tear from his cheek. “Thank you, Luke.” 

_ However, don't think that this gets you out of my jokes and stories, _ Luke chided. 

Ben groaned, cradling his head in his hands. “Your jokes are horrible and you only have so many stories, Uncle!” 

_ Who the hell cares? You get to hear all of them. For the end of time. _

He groaned, banging his head in the console as Luke started chatting about life on Tattooine, and he  _ swore _ he heard Anakin say “I hate sand” in the background. 

_ Family _ , he muttered to himself, and a part of him was content, with Luke's horrible stories and jokes and Anakin grumbling about sand, and Obi Wan in the back only chuckling at the mess of people around him. He briefly wondered if Yoda was still in the back, doing shots. He knew he would be. 

You were asleep when he landed, but you stirred when he climbed into bed with you, freshly showered and changed, nuzzling into your back before you promptly fell back asleep, this time with a smile on your face and a happy, complete home. He was a little restless, but he eventually found sleep in your messy hair and sweet scent, Dylan the dog and Pickles the cat finding a place for themselves on the bed as well. 

_ This is my family. It is little, and broken, but still good, _ Ben finally smiled,  _ and I wouldn't change it for the world.  _

Sure, maybe he didn't understand the ways of the Force. Maybe the purpose he assigned himself was not meant for him, and maybe he was just meant to help you and the others with the rise of the Gray Jedi once again. And he, like everything else that had happened, wouldn't change it for anything. 

\------------

_ The rubble outside the Citadel stirred, _ Minerva Solus noticed, as she waited patiently, her gold eyes searching for that hand that appeared above the rocks. She grabbed it, pulling it up along with the drowsy body that came with it. 

“Solus,” Rey smiled sleepily. “Where’s Ben?” 

“Gone, like we planned,” she smiled wickedly. “It’s just you, me, and the world, little sis.” 

Rey’s eyes flashed gold as she lifted herself up to a more comfortable position, grinning at her sister. “Is it all as we planned?’ 

“Every little detail,” Solus replied. “The rule of two will live again, dear sister, and we will be the New Sith Order.” 

“It is as you command, dear sister,” Rey smiled, and together, the sisters cheered, gold eyes meeting gold as they planned the demise of the New Jedi Order. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> { song : go (let me save you) // citizen zero }


	20. Epilogue: The Past, the Present, and the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are the whispers turning your mind?  
> They're the wolves nipping at your heels,  
> Trying to drag you down when the light is gone.
> 
> And now winter is coming she preys on us all;  
> Watch how they're mocking, ready to fall  
> And our pulses are pounding to the sound of  
> the drum...."

**_Transcript of a class taught by Master Benjamin Solo, ordered by Master Jedi Ahsoka Tano. Scribe: Knight Jacen Solo, son of the Master and Grand Master Solo, wife of Ben._ **

Hello, class, it’s time to begin.  _ A collective groaning could be heard as students shuffled to their seats, pulling datapads out of their bags. Master Solo pulls a hologram up, displaying the topic of the day. _

_ He waits patiently for the class to get settled, and then begins.  _ You see, ever since I started teaching history here, these few years have been hard for me to cover. It's gotten easier since the Battle of the Citadel, but not much. Forgive me if I need to step out a moment; this galaxy lost many brilliant minds that day.  _ The class remains silent, but a few of the students show some emotion for their teacher, murmuring words of understanding and encouragement.  _

Now, that being said, we have to start with the rise of the First Order.  _ Master Solo jumps up on the desk, sitting cross-legged. The scene on the hologram changes, displaying the face of Armitage Hux, Supreme Leader Snoke, and his own.  _ From left to right, their names are Armitage Hux, Supreme Leader Snoke, and Kylo Ren. Before any of you ask, yes, that is me, about when I was your age.  _ The class laughs a little, as Master Solo hadn't quite grown into his ears or nose, and generally looked like the average angry teenager.  _ We were the first of the First Order. Later, Phasma came along, and the highest trio in the Order began. Hux was in charge of the military and Phasma handled the Stormtroopers. 

_ A student raises his hand.  _ Yes, Padawan Socan? 

_ The padawan pales, not realizing that the Master would have remembered his name, and then spoke in a wavering voice. “What were you in charge of?”  _

_ Master Solo cringes, shrugging.  _ I don't know, throwing tantrums and breaking things?  _ The class breaks out into laughter, finding it hard to believe that their controlled master was once that reckless.  _ No, it's true. This is kind of off-topic, but it’s, ironically, how I met my wife, the Grand Master.  _ The room falls silent in shock.  _ Mmhmn. I don't really remember why I was upset. I was, stars, maybe thirty at the time, about two years before the destruction of Starkiller Base, which we’ll get to, and I was in one of the spare machine rooms, breaking things. She walked in, concerned, and I freaked out, Force-pushing her into the wall. She fell and hit her head on something, and I ran to get help, apologizing the entire way.  _ He shrugs, trying to play off his discomfort at telling the tale himself.  _ I broke machines so I didn't break people. I gave her seven stitches, and four years later we had Jacen.  _ He nods at me, and all the students turn to look at me. I smile, and then Master Solo begins speaking once again.  _ Take up any further questions with the Grandmaster; I'm sure she’ll  **love** telling you about our first years together. 

_ The image changes again, displaying images and schematics of Starkiller Base.  _ This is the weapon we built, determined to unite the galaxy under one banner once again. I was so obsessed with my grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, that I refused to see the light of him as well. 

_ The padawans scramble to take notes, eyes wide and scared as the tale grew in horror. Master Solo continues the tale of the rise and the fall of the First Order, choking up at his father’s death. From there, he tells the recorded facts about the Resistance the years before the death of Hux and Snoke, of Liberty and the Kazmareks and Solus, and all of them, you included.  _

_ When Master Solo finishes, he turns off the holoprojector, sitting in the dark for a moment before he turns the lights back on.  _ Questions? _ He calls, and a few hands shoot up in the air.  _

_ With a nod, he chooses Padawan Tano, daughter of Ahsoka Tano, who speaks out in an even, strong voice. “What happened to Liberty Paige?” She asks, and Solo smiles.  _

She remained with the Elite squadron, but was sent undercover shortly after the siege on Crescent Base.  Her job was to weed out corruption in the Republic, and as far as I know, that’s what she’s still doing.  _ He leans in, a wicked smile on his face, and whispers,  _ Don't tell her that I told you, though. She’ll find me when I sleep, and then you'll all have to find a new history teacher. 

_ The kids laugh, well aware of what he was insinuating, and he turns to another Padawan, the name of whom evades me at this time, and he stands, drawing the attention of the class.  _

_ The student walks towards Master Solo, who slides off the desk. He takes his lightsaber in his hand, and Master Solo’s eyes go wide, likely preparing for an unpredictable assault, but the young man only places it on the counter, looking conflicted.  _

_ “If that's always what happens, Master Solo, that these horrible people live and kill because they can.... I don't know if I can be a Jedi.”  _

_ The class murmurs an agreement, but Master Solo doesn't respond right away. He picks up the saber, igniting the blade and spinning it.  _ Good balance.  _ He turns it off, investigating the hilt.  _ Beautiful design. Very elegant.  _ He turns back towards his student, and looks him in the eye.  _ What would you do if I broke it? 

_ Stunned, the student fumbles for an answer. Finally, he says, “I would be angry, sir. I worked hard to make that.”  _

_ Master Solo nods, handing it back to him.  _ You see, young Padawans, people are awful. They are disgusting, unpredictable heathen. Corruption will always exist, because people are greedy when they have power. People will kill for power, for money, for fame. And when they rise to power, we can only hope that we won't be fooled, and weed them out before they get too powerful. If not, then we will start the process all over again.  _ The student goes and sits down, effectively stunned. He looks down at his wrist, an old, frayed bracelet with a tarnished silver wolf, smiling gently. Master Solo sits back on the counter, and then he goes back to his tale.  _ Inside all of us, there is a struggle. There's a struggle of good and evil, two wolves fighting for dominance. Sometimes they play nice, when an outside event is larger than the struggle for serenity in your own body. Other times, it'll tear you apart until it exists in harmony or one wolf wins.  _ With that ominous note, he claps his hands, rubbing them together.  _ Right. Remember, the Kazmarek twins are taking this class period tomorrow to discuss each of your lightsaber forms to group you together, depending on which form you'd like to master first. Class dismissed. 

_ He turns his back, allowing the students to leave, but he turns back around when the students don't move.  _ What's wrong? I said you could leave. 

_ A young student, a human girl with purple hair and gray eyes stands up, her voice shaking. “Sir.... What wolf wins?”  _

_ He nods in understanding, and then says,  _ whichever you feed the most. 

**_End transcript._ **

 

_ I placed the datapad on the desk of Master Tano, lost in thought. “Knight Solo,” Ahsoka called to me, and I paused, turning to face her.  _

_ “Yes, Master Tano?” I asked, keeping my emotions closely under wraps.  _

_ She narrowed her blue eyes, her lips faintly pursed. “I sense a great discomfort and distress in you, Jacen. Is there anything I can do?”  _

_ I only smiled, the action tight-lipped and tense. “No, Master Tano. Thank you for your concern.”  _

_ I left the room, walking down the deserted halls. This late at night, few other than older padawans with insomnia and people hiding something wandered them, and I'm sure you can figure out which one I was.  _

_ I pushed open the door to my quarters, locking it shut behind me, and I cleaned off my desk, droid parts scattered about the room. The item I was looking for was there, and I pushed aside my panic at the potential of it being discovered.  _

_ The lightsaber hilt in my hand was of elegant design, as my style always was, and I snapped it down alongside my hip, igniting the blade and washing the otherwise dimly lit room in red.  _

Time to feed the wolves,  _ I thought, a small smile easing its way to my lips.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow.   
> Just, wow.   
> I can't believe that we've made it, guys. I know I said yesterday about how happy I was for the support and all, but /wow/. You all have floored me. I couldn't be happier with the feedback, I swear.   
> I figured I'd address this now: Jacen Solo is an EU character from Star Wars. He is Han and Leia's eldest (?) son that is a strong Jedi who falls to the Sith. Since in Star Wars canon, he does not exist, I'd add him in for my good friend Aprille (who would probably marry Jacen given the chance) and to, yes, leave me open to a series of short stories of Skywalker shenanigans. Will I? Eh, who knows. Might. Might not. We'll see.   
> But I really wanted to add him in as a nod to the legends, and the fact I really like his character and beCAUSE GEORGE LUCAS REFUSES TO MAKE HIM CANON so he's a generation later than he should be, but whatever. *slams fist* CLOSE ENOUGH.   
> Just.... Thank you, guys.   
> So, so goddamn much.   
> Until next time, fair winds and good seas; may the stars watch over you all.   
> With all love,   
> Obsidian Ronin


End file.
